Finding Grace
by AdAbolendam
Summary: Sins of the past always have a way of catching up with you, especially if you are Rupert Giles. An alternate take on Season Seven that picks up after Willow returns from England. This time, Giles comes with her. First chapter is somewhere between "T" and "M". Everything that follows is innocuous enough.
1. Chapter 1

**The Morning After**

Warm morning sunlight played on her face, making bright red patterns on the inside of her eyelids. Willow let out a groan and buried her head beneath the pillow. She winced at the unexpected rawness in her throat. She felt sore all over. As the peace of sleep retreated, she began to realize the wrongness of the situation.

She wasn't in her room.

A hollow gnawing was forming in her stomach that made her grit her teeth.

It was then that she realized that she wasn't wearing any clothes. Someone had carefully tucked her under white sheets and warm comforter and had left.

She was alone.

When she realized where she was, the hollow twinge grew teeth, an acid biting at the back of her throat. Last night's events came back slowly, first as a blur, then as a sharp, horrifying memory with a volume too loud to drown out.

"Oh no," she whimpered. "Please no."

"No no no no-no-nonononono…" she choked back a cry as she fumbled around the mattress searching for her clothes. She found them a few minutes later on the other side of the room. The sight of her jeans and sweater folded neatly in a chair by the wardrobe made the nausea all the more acute. She had to get out of there.

Fully clothed, she poked her head out of the door and padded softly down the stairs. The sight of him sleeping on the living room couch, glasses askew, lips parted and snoring softly, made her freeze on the landing. She slowly drew in a breath and sneaked past him on tiptoes, not chancing a glance back.

She made it to the bathroom just in time.

The sound of the door closing and the retching that followed jarred him awake. His heart thudded violently as he raised a shaky hand to adjust his glasses. He crept into the hallway outside the bathroom. The wet coughing continued and he began to feel ill himself.

Giles curled a sweat-slicked palm into a tight fist and was just about to knock when he thought better of it.

"Not yet," he muttered.

He shuffled into the kitchen and set a kettle of water on the stove top, before walking into the den and promptly forgetting about it. He fidgeted on the couch for two minutes, then quickly abandoned all pretence of calm and paced.

The gagging in the bathroom was replaced with the metallic _thwack_ of the shower curtain being pulled back and the accompaniment of running water.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and wished desperately for patience. The shower seemed to continue indefinitely.

"It's alright," he tried to reassure himself. "It's only natural that she'd want to… Oh, God… what have I done? She must think I'm… If she really hated me though, she would leave, and she's still here so—what if she couldn't make it home? What if she was too hurt to leave? Did I really hurt her that badly? I tried not to…"

He cut himself off, realizing that debating himself like a crazy person was not what Willow needed to see when she came out. _If _she ever came out.

Finally, his anxiety got the better of him.

He knocked gently on the door. There was no reply, but he knew from the change in the tone of the slap of water on tile that she had heard him.

"Willow?" He pursed his lips when there was no answer and tried again. "Willow, I'll be in the living room when you come out. We need to talk."

The taps squeaked as she shut off the water.

"Okay," came the quiet reply.

Willow padded out from the bathroom dressed in her clothes from the night before, hair still soaking wet and dripping onto her sweater-clad shoulders. She perched on the edge of the couch opposite to him and stared intently at her hands.

Giles cleared his throat, "Willow, can I get you anything to drink?"

She shook her head and shifted her gaze to his lap, unable to meet his eyes.

"Okay," he tried again in a calm voice, "How are you feeling?"

"How do you think?" She asked in a gravelly whisper.

The color drained out of Giles' face. The silence in the room grew by volumes with every second.

"You have every right to hate—"

"Oh Giles," Willow cut him off. "I am so sorry!"

The older man was stunned into silence.

Willow's eyes filled with tears and overflowed. "I am so embarrassed! I was irresponsible and… Oh, God!"

She buried her face in the couch cushion, which muffled her strangled gasp.

"Willow…" Giles inched toward her.

She peered at him over the corner of the pillow and mumbled something that was lost in the synthetic polyblend.

"Didn't quite catch that."

"I was such a whore! I was a slutty-slut! You have to believe that I didn't mean to do any of that. I would never do anything to compromise our friendship. Especially after last summer! I understand if you don't want to see me again!"

Willow was hysterical, half-crying, half-screaming, her breath coming out in shaking gasps.

"Willow, shhhh," Giles tried. "Willow, Willow… WILLOW!"

She broke finally broke off, wincing as if waiting for a blow.

He moved as close to her as he could without touching her.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he spoke quietly. "I encouraged you to practice magicks again. And I was the one who… Willow, can you ever forgive me?"

Willow sniffed and looked up to him with an air of incredulity, "Forgive you? Why? Giles, you saved me! You did the only thing that would have worked!"

Giles looked away, "Well, that's what Anya said, but I should have explored…"

"You told Anya?!"

Giles eyed Willow carefully, "Willow, what do you remember about last night?"

Willow swallowed and looked intently at the coffee table, "It started like I told you earlier. Buffy came home from patrol and I was in the kitchen…"

"Willow!" Buffy flung her gym bag of medieval weaponry onto the kitchen table with a muffled clang. "What are you still doing up?"

"I'm still on England time," Willow explained around a mouthful of cereal. "It's already ten in the morning there."

"So you think breakfast at two am will help ease you back into the transition?"

"I'm hoping that eating Caramel Coco Puffs will give me the sugar crash I need to sleep through the night," Willow grinned. "Good patrol?"

"I guess," Buffy plucked at some non-existent sweater ball.

"Spike still giving you trouble?"

"That's just it," Buffy sighed. "He's really not."

Willow smiled sympathetically. "I know. They're not nearly as sexually appealing when they're trying to kill you."

"Well, sometimes they are," Buffy contradicted.

Willow raised an eyebrow.

"Kidding!" Buffy sat down at the table. "I don't know what I'm going to do, Will. I cannot allow myself fall back into old habits with Spike. I mean, I get it. He's a good guy. Or at least he's not a Big Bad anymore. He has a soul now… whatever that means. I mean, I like him… maybe even… but I can't, with him, not again…"

"Would that be so bad, Buffy?" Willow asked. "He loves you. He's proven that. What can be so wrong about a relationship with someone who cares about you that much?"

"He's a vampire, Will. There's a demon inside of him."

"Didn't stop you before…"

"And look how that worked out. Both times." Buffy sighed. "There's a reason that sleeping with the undead is frowned upon, Will."

Willow smiled, "It does always seem to get complicated."

Buffy started to say something, then hesitated.

"What?"

"Well, maybe you could help me out…"

Willow's eyebrows creased, "Buffy, I'm flattered, but I'm still recovering from Tara and you think there's complications with the whole slayer-vampire romance thing… that's nothing compared to when best friends get romantically involved."

"Willow!"

Willow laughed.

"No," Buffy pouted. "I mean, maybe there's a spell you could use that would, you know, cool down my libido. At least when it comes to Spike."

Willow shook her head slowly, "I don't think so, Buffy. Even if I did trust myself completely, you really don't want to screw around with your junk magically."

"Yeah," Buffy sighed. "Nothing worse than magically-enhanced junk."

Willow grinned.

"It's just… I feel terrible around him. I flirt with him. Completely unconsciously," she clarified. "That's just how I've always behaved around him, it's like _ingrained._ And I don't want to lead him on. He deserves better than that."

"Yeah," Willow agreed softly. "I wish I could help, Buff."

"Just think about it, okay?" Buffy asked. "If, in the course of your research, you happen to come across a spell that would suit my particular dilemma, just, don't dismiss it right away, okay?"

Willow raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Hey, Giles trusts you with magicks," Buffy tried.

Willow snorted. "Yeah, and Giles' faith in me had never been misplaced before…"

"Well, he does have a bit of a blind spot when it comes to his girls," Buffy conceded. "But I don't think he's wrong on this, Will. He wouldn't have let you come back if he didn't trust you."

"I'll think about it, Buffy," Willow finally agreed. "But don't get your hopes up."

"Okay," Buffy yawned happily.

She rose and kissed her friend on the forehead. "Try not to stay up too late. We gotta get you back on Pacific time."

"I won't. Goodnight, Buffy."

_But I couldn't get to sleep_, Willow continued. _No one had asked me to do magic since Tara left me. No one had trusted me. But Buffy did. And I couldn't make the longing go away. It was like an itch that ran deep under my skin. I found the spell a few hours later. It was in one of the texts we rescued from _The Magic Box._ It was simple and I knew I could do it. I just needed to check with one person first. You._

"Giles?"

"Hello, Willow! Settling back in okay?"

"Yeah, I guess," Willow twisted the phone cord around her finger. "How's the old apartment?"

"I missed it more than I thought, actually. It's bigger than the flat in Bath. More room to spread out."

"Uh-huh."

"What can I do for you, Willow? Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine," Willow assured him. "Well, I'm okay. Still a little jetlagged."

"Well, that's to be expected."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Willow, would you like to tell me what's wrong?"

"Giles, you trust me, right?"

"Yes, of course," came Giles' carefully measured cadence. "You know I do."

"Why?"

Giles sighed.

"I mean, I haven't given you reason to recently. Not really."

"Because I know you, Willow. I know how seductive the kind of power you have can be. And I know that you're smart enough never to let that power control you again."

"I wish I knew you were right."

"I guess my faith in you will have to be enough for both of us."

Willow was silent.

"Willow?" Giles asked. "Are you still there?"

"I'm here," Willow replied softly. "I want to practice magicks again, Giles."

"Good," she could hear the smile in his voice."That's very good, Willow. I think that wanting to practice magic again is the first step to not letting it control you."

"You think?"

"I do," Giles paused. "Have you any idea about where you want to begin?"

"Um, yeah," Willow ran her fingers over the illuminated folio. "It's just a charm, really. Something for Buffy."

"For Buffy?" Giles asked. "Do you want any help?"

"No!" Willow said a little too abruptly, knowing how Buffy would feel if she talked to her mentor about her sex drive. "No, I got it. I'll call you afterwards to let you know how it works out."

"Okay. I look forward to hearing from you later, Willow."

"Yeah, me too."

"Goodbye."

"Well, have you tried Barnes and Noble?"

"I'm telling you, I've tried everywhere, Buffy. Turns out one year of retail experience in a magic shop that had to be condemned doesn't make for a great resume."

"Don't you still have some money left over from last year?"

"How much do you think Giles paid me? I have enough for one more month's rent. Then I'm screwed."

"You could always move back in with Xander."

"I don't know if I'm ready to forgive him that much."

"You forgave him enough to let him jack-hammer you on the construction site last Tuesday."

"He told you that?"

Willow had decided that she'd eavesdropped long enough. "Hey guys!"

Anya and Buffy looked up from their discussion on the living room couch.

"If it isn't the source of my misfortune," Anya greeted her.

"Hi, Anya," Willow returned the greeting nervously. "It's good to see you not holding any grudges."

"I was a vengeance demon for over a millennium, Willow. Forgiveness is not in my nature."

"Well, that must be nice for you." She turned her attention to Buffy. "Hey, Buffy! Remember, we were going to do that thing?"

Buffy gave her a blank stare.

"That special thing, that you were going to do for Spike?"

"Really?" Buffy raised her eyebrows. "Yes! Spike! Can't let that 129th birthday passed unnoticed. It's one of the big ones…"

Anya rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm not leaving. I just got here and I'm not relishing the idea of going back to my apartment to stew until the landlord evicts me."

"You can stew down here then," Willow offered. "Buffy and me will just be a sec."

"Fine," Anya agreed, slightly mollified. "I'll go see what your kitchen has to offer. Not like I can afford to spend money on luxuries like food…"

Buffy and Willow sighed as the kitchen door swung closed.

"What are we going to do about her?" Buffy wondered out loud.

"Later," Willow grabbed her hand. "Do you still want to do this?"

Buffy smiled cautiously, "Yeah, if you're up to it."

"I think so," Willow grinned. "Do you trust me?"

"More than anyone, Will."

"Then let's do this."

"Okay, now this stuff isn't going to kill my sex drive permanently, is it?"

"No," Willow looked up from the text. "It's just for you and Spike. And you'll still like him, you just won't want to jump his bones constantly."

"It's not constantly…"

Willow raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, point taken. I guess that's why I'm doing this."

Willow sat back on her heels.

"Alright, it's very simple. You drink this mixture slowly, while I recite this verse."

Buffy eyed the cup in Willow's hand cautiously, "What's in it?"

"Do you really want to know?"

Buffy took the cup with a grimace.

"Bottom's up!"

Willow felt the familiar surge of energy as she began to chant. The sensation was somewhere between pain and erotic pleasure, combined with something else entirely. Something indescribably powerful. She savored every moment of it.

As Buffy drained the dregs of the glass, Willow felt a wave of heat rush out of Buffy and crash into her. Her gut felt like it was on fire.

"Willow!" Buffy crouched over her and shook her arm. "Willow? Are you okay?"

Willow got to her feet shakily.

"Yeah, I think so."

"What was that?" Buffy demanded. "Was that supposed to happen?"

"I guess so," Willow grinned faintly. She smoothed her sweater and checked her reflection in the floor length mirror.

"Well, did it work?"

Willow's smile widened, but she didn't pry her eyes away from her mirror-image, "You tell me."

"I don't know," she said slowly, her brow furrowed. "I guess I won't know until I see him again."

"Mmm…" Willow muttered distractedly.

"I guess I could head out to the crypt now," Buffy thought out loud. "It's not too long before sunset."

"Good idea."

"Okay," Buffy slapped her thighs decisively. "I will! I'll be back later, tell you how it goes?"

Willow drew her gaze away from the mirror, "Might not be here."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," she said, talking to her reflection again. "Giles said he wanted to know how the spell went. Might go over there…"

"Buffy left for the cemetery and I…" Willow broke off and began to sob silently.

Giles shifted on the couch nervously. He rubbed his hands together, unsure of what do to with them.

"Willow," he began, finally resting a hand on her shoulder.

Willow gasped, recoiling at the contact, and Giles jerked his hand back like it had been shocked.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"No," Willow sniffed, turning to face him. "No, Giles, it's fine. It's just that I don't really remember what happened next."

Giles struggled to maintain eye contact.

"Well, I do," Willow corrected herself. "Just flashes, really. Mostly I just remember feeling like I was drunk and hot. Like I had a really high fever."

Giles swallowed nervously.

"What did I do, Giles?"

"Willow, I don't think it's a great idea to…"

"What did I say to you?" Willow continued.

"Maybe it's for the best that we don't go into specifics."

"That bad, huh?"

Giles sighed and gave her a small smile.

"I need to know," Willow said softly. "If I don't know, then I'll just create this awful imaginary scenario. You can gloss over the more lurid details, if you want. But please tell me?"

He didn't answer for awhile, staring at the coffee table contemplatively. When he did speak, his voice was low and quiet. He didn't look Willow in the eye.

"I was at home, reading. I had been considering calling Buffy to see if she wanted any company on her patrol, when you knocked on the door…"

"Willow!" Giles exclaimed, opening the door. "I thought you were going to call."

She grinned and walked passed him, into the apartment, ducking under his arm.

"I take it that the spell went well?"

Willow turned to face him, "I think so. Buffy seemed… satisfied."

"You're not going to let me know what it was, are you?"

She sat down at the desk chair, crossing her legs slowly, "That would be telling."

Giles looked confused. "Yes…"

"I don't think Buffy would like me to," Willow said. "It's a girl thing. You know… private."

"Ah," Giles said.

A moment passed in silence. Giles felt increasingly uneasy as Willow stared at him intently. He began to feel that there was something he should be saying, but he didn't know what it was.

"Willow, is there anything I can do for you?"

She smiled slowly, "Giles, I'd like to think that we're at the point in our relationship when we can just spend some time in each other's company without a specific agenda."

"Well, y-yes," Giles stuttered. "That's true. It's just that... Are you feeling sick?"

Her cheeks were flushed and there was a fine sheen of sweat on her forehead. Her bright green stare was unfocused and glassy.

"I feel fine," Willow said in a low voice.

He put his hand on her forehead, "You feel hot."

Willow had closed her eyes and sighed at his touch. When removed his hand, she let out a tiny moan.

"Don't stop touching me," she whispered.

"What?" He asked.

Willow stood up and looked him in the eye, "Keep touching me, Giles."

"Willow…"

She took his left hand in her right and placed her other behind his neck, gently guiding him down to kiss her. As their lips brushed, she placed his hand on her breast. He jumped back, gasping.

"Willow!"

"Giles, don't stop!" Her eyes flashed. "I need you."

Giles put took her chin in his hand and looked at her closely. The glassiness in her eyes had been replaced by a burning glow. He let out a breath to steady himself, knowing that he had to tread carefully.

"Willow," he started carefully. "Will you wait for me upstairs?"

"In your bedroom?"

Giles swallowed, "Yes. I'll be there in a minute."

"You promise?"

He forced himself to look her in the eye. "I promise."

She smiled seductively and leaned over his shoulder. Her lips grazed his ear, "Don't keep me waiting."

Giles let out a breath and leaned on the back of the couch as she pounded up the stairs. When his pulse had slowed and his hands stopped shaking, he picked up the phone on the desk and dialed the familiar number.

"Come on, Buffy," he muttered. "Come on, be home for once."

"This is the home of Buffy Summers. Anya speaking."

"Anya, thank God! Is Buffy home?"

"No," Anya practically spat. "She and Willow left without telling me. I was shouting a grocery list up the stairs to them for five minutes before I realized there was no one there."

Giles closed his eyes, "Do you know what it was that she and Willow were doing upstairs?"

"I don't know. They said they were working on something for Spike."

"Spike?"

"That's what they said," she confirmed. "I don't know though, Giles. No one ever tells me anything. It's like I can't be trusted just because I used to eviscerate and generally plague faithless men for a millennia. But that doesn't mean I'm not trustworthy. I consider my ability to keep secrets one of my finest qualities."

"Anya, do shut up, this is important."

"Fine!" Giles could hear her rolling her eyes. "What is it?"

"I need you to go upstairs and find out what it was Buffy and Willow were working on."

"Okay, hold on."

Giles heard successive hollow stomps as she made her way up the stairs.

"Well, they were definitely doing a spell. There's a glass in here that held something. Whatever it is, it's gone now. There's just some leaves at the bottom. Belladonna, maybe?"

"Is there a book or incantation written down anywhere?"

"Nooo… I don't… Oh, yeah! Here, on the bed. It's a manuscript, open to a standard de-lusting spell. _De_-lusting? That's what they were going to give to Spike? What kind of birthday present is that?"

Giles pinched the bridge of his nose, "What language is it in, Arabic or Latin?"

"Uhhh, neither. It's English."

"Okay, but what was it translated from?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"What's the name of the book, Anya?"

"_Charms and Magicks of Love and Lust_."

"The one from The Magic Box."

"Uh, I guess so. We have a lot of your books over here."

Giles let out an expletive.

"Giles!" Anya admonished. "I didn't know you knew words like that."

"That spell isn't properly translated! It was incorrectly rendered into Latin from the Arabic and then, apparently, into English. That whole book is full of errors."

"What's wrong with the spell?"

"My guess? An ingredient was either deleted or was mistranslated and as a result the person's sexual desire doesn't disappear, it just transfers to the person who performed the spell. And then, apparently, magnifies."

"Okay," Anya said slowly, "But how do you know something went wrong?"

"Willow's over here now."

"Okay," she said impatiently. "Ohhhh…"

"I'm afraid so."

"Giles, you know what you have to do."

"Please tell me you know something I don't."

"You have to sleep with her."

"I can't do that!" His voice sounded strangled, even to himself, but he thought it appropriate, given the circumstance.

"Well, then, prepare to say your goodbyes to the little witch."

"Anya!"

"You know how these sexual energy spells work," Anya insisted. "They build up and up and if the cursed person doesn't get some sort of release…"

"They are consumed by the fire of their own passion."

"They go boom is what, Giles," she clarified. "You have to do something. And you probably don't have much time."

"Right."

"You okay?"

"Yes," Giles swallowed. "Thank you, Anya."

"Glad I could help."

"Okay, well, I should go."

"Okay."

"And Anya?"

"Yes?"

"Please don't tell anyone about this conversation."

"Does nobody listen to me?"

"Trust-worthy, right."

"My lips are sealed."

"Right," he repeated. "Good-bye."

Giles hung up the phone and stared at it. He looked around his apartment in its state of half-unpacked disarray, hoping that an alternative solution would present itself. He knew in his gut Anya was correct though. Even if there was some sort of spell that could sort Willow out, there wasn't enough time for research. Still, he couldn't make himself go up the staircase.

"Hi, Giles," The small voice in his ear nearly made him fall out of the chair.

"Willow!" She had changed out of her clothes and had slipped into his bathrobe. "I didn't hear you come down."

"I got tired of waiting," She put her hands on his shoulders and straddled his thigh. She pressed her lips to his neck right under his ear and worked her way down to his collar slowly and deliberately. Giles repressed a shudder.

"Willow," he said. His voice was unrecognizably husky. He put tucked her hair behind her ear to get her attention.

"Hmmm?"

"Willow, if you and I are going to do this, you need to listen to me, okay?"

"Oh, you're one of those," She grinned and continued where she left off, sucking on his earlobe.

"Willow, Willow!" He pulled her away again. "I just don't want anyone to get hurt, okay?"

"Don't worry, Rupert," she smiled coyly. "I'll go easy on you."

"I'm serious," He managed to look her in the eye.

"Alright," she shrugged. "You take the lead on this one. I can be a good listener."

"Good." His breath came out in a shaky sigh. He slid her off his lap and stood up, taking her hand in his. She followed him dutifully up the stairs.

Despite what she had said about letting him call the shots, her eagerness hadn't dissipated. When they reached the bedroom, she all but threw him on the bed and sat on his lap. She started what she had begun downstairs, trailing kisses down his neck. This time she didn't bother to stop at his shirt collar, but ripped it open and continued down.

"Okay, okay…" He placed a hand on her forehead to calm her before she could reach anywhere too interesting. "We're not going to do that."

"Are you sure?" She asked knowingly, glancing at his aroused state.

"Quite sure," he reasserted.

"Fine," she eased off of him and let the bathrobe slip to the floor. "Screw the foreplay."

With surprising strength, she pulled him on top of her, kissing him firmly on the mouth. He hesitated at first, every voice in his head protesting how _wrong_ this was. Her tongue slid slowly and surely over the tip of his and he found himself responding in kind. How easy it would have been to lose himself entirely inside of her!

The internal shouts of protest faded to a whisper and he realized in that moment how close he was to abandoning his paternal role and just having her. As a woman. She was a woman, wasn't she? A particularly beautiful, slender, trusting woman, who was looking at him in a way that was nothing short of adoring. It would have been so easy.

But she was Willow. She was also the girl who trusted him to do the right thing above all else. The girl he had watched and mentored as she grew from awkward teenager to self-confident young adult. The girl who would have been appalled at her behavior if she had any control over what she was doing.

And it was for that girl that he had to tread carefully.

With nimble fingers, she had made quick work of his belt buckle and his trousers and boxers soon followed.

Her kisses stopped and she looked at him intently.

"What are you waiting for?" She asked, her voice a low whisper.

"Willow," he hesitated.

"Giles, please," she begged.

"You haven't… been with a man a good while…"

"I'm sure it will all come back to me." Her eyes flashed eerily.

"I just don't want to hurt you."

"You won't." She kissed him. "You couldn't. Not even if you tried."

Giles knew how untrue that was and his face must have shown it.

"Please, Giles! I need you," she drew her mouth close to his ear. "I need you close to me, inside of me. Please."

He swallowed thickly, realizing on some level how true those words were.

She cried out when he entered her and his heart nearly thudded out of his chest.

"Are you-"

"Please!" She pleaded. "Don't stop!"

He moved slowly, cautiously. With every thrust, her skin grew hotter. Every inch of her body was soft and slick with sweat. As he kissed her neck, he thought his flesh would scorch. They were both going to die in this bed. They were going to be burned alive.

Her moans grew loud and laced with desperation.

"Giles, please," Willow cried. "I'm on fire! I'm so hot. Giles, please make it stop!"

"I'm trying, love." He kissed her forehead. "Stay with me."

"Please, please, I'm so…" Her begging dissolved into incoherent mumbles.

He worked harder, faster, deeper, abandoning the caution he had clung to before.

"Stay with me, Willow," he commanded.

Her eyes, so bright with desire and pain, filled with tears and spilled over. Her back arched suddenly and her muscles tensed around him. She let out a wail that pierced him like a lance.

The suddenness of her climax sent a shockwave through him. He hissed as a wave of heat washed over the two of them. The intensity of the moment left him ragged, panting for breath, as he collapsed on Willow's breast. It was then that he realized his mistake. He had come inside of her.

He swore under his breath.

"Willow?" He asked, pulling himself onto his elbows. "Willow, I'm sor—Willow?"

She lay beneath him completely still, her lips still parted, her eyes closed.

"Willow!"

"I thought you were dead," he concluded, hollowly. "I was sure I had killed you."

"Oh, Giles," Willow whispered.

He sighed. As she had requested, he had painted the more intimate details of their encounter with broad strokes, but a look from her told him that she remembered more than she let on. How would they ever get past this?

"What happened next?"

"I found your pulse," he said. "It was weak, but… I could see that you were breathing. You didn't have a fever. I covered you up, got dressed and went downstairs. I checked on you every twenty minutes after that. I don't think you moved the entire night."

Willow let out a shaky breath.

"Wow," she said, unable to meet his eyes. "Well, thank you for telling me that. I know it wasn't easy. And I do remember… more. I just… I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I put you in that position. I was so reckless."

"You didn't do anything wrong. There was no way you could have known the spell was faulty. You were just doing what I told you you could."

Willow pried her eyes away from the coffee table and forced herself to look at him.

"Thank you, Giles."

"Oh, please don't."

"Seriously." She placed her hand on his arm gently. "If you hadn't acted when you did. I would have—"

"Please, Willow!" He cut her off, holding up his hand. "Just, don't. I was just scared and I acted. I didn't even think. Not really."

He covered his face with his hands, "I didn't even think to use protection."

"Didn't seem like I gave you much of a choice."

"What if…?"

"I can't think about that right now," Willow said frankly. "Seems pretty unlikely, at any rate."

He fell silent.

"Giles, look at me," she said.

He looked up from his hands, "I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness."

"Giles, you have nothing to be sorry for." Her tone left no room for argument. She took his hand in hers. "You did the right thing. I know that it doesn't seem like it now. But you were put in a difficult position and you handled it with grace. You could have been impersonal and harsh. God knows I deserved it, the way I was acting…"

He opened his mouth to interrupt her, but she continued, "But you didn't. You were gentle and kind. You were the person I've always known you to be. And I love you for that."

There was nothing he could think to say after that. He slowly put his arm around her shoulders, praying that she wouldn't shirk away. She returned the embrace easily. He was glad for it. With her face hidden in the crook of his arm, she wouldn't be able to see that he was crying.


	2. More Consequences

*Thanks for sticking with it, guys! I originally wrote the first chapter as a standalone. It was this second part that began to take on the shape of a longer narrative.

I hope you enjoy!*

In spite of her reassuring words, things between the two of them changed after that night. Willow made a concerted effort to let Giles know that she wasn't uncomfortable around him. It was difficult though. Mostly because it wasn't true. She wasn't disgusted by him, or appalled at his behavior. She didn't shirk away from his touch, or she wouldn't have, if he had ever made an attempt to touch her. But he tiptoed around her like he was walking on eggshells. There were no more casual brushes of the hand when they both reached for the same volume, or friendly pats on the shoulder as he leaned over her while she worked at the computer. He made sure that there were no accidental displays of affection.

She tortured them both by taking the high road. Not only did she pretend the events of that night had not bothered her, she acted like it had made them closer. She invited herself over to his apartment for research sessions that spanned hours. She asked his advice on new spells and joined him and Buffy on patrols. When she caught him staring at her with that unintentional, searching look, she forced herself to meet his eyes with a smile, letting him know that nothing was wrong.

They were trapped in an act, a play where neither person knew the lines, but each refused to drop character.

Willow was starting to resent him for it.

More than anything, she wanted to tell Buffy. She wanted to rant for hours about how unreasonable he was being. How she had gone out of her way to fix things and he couldn't even extend his hand to meet her halfway. But when she thought of that night, how she had _acted_, what she had _done_ to the man that Buffy was closer to than her own father, all thoughts of coming clean evaporated.

Something had to change between the two of them. They could not go on like this.

She thought of just going home and forgetting her plans for tonight. Her eyelids felt heavy as she envisioned her bed and how good it would feel to just give up. But she knew she couldn't. Because he was Giles. And seven years of history spoke for something. She wasn't going to throw in the towel because he was acting uncomfortable and awkward and _British_.

She knocked firmly on his front door and plastered on what she hoped was an easy-going smile.

"Ah," Giles answered the door. "Willow, hello."

"You were expecting someone else?" She couldn't ignore the disappointment in his tone. "No, no, just, Buffy said that she would be coming by too." He stood to the side. "Do come in."

He looked as tired as she felt. Before, she would have said something, chided him for not getting enough sleep. Now, she was too preoccupied with pretending everything was okay to waste time acting natural.

She spread her books out on the coffee table and plopped back on the sofa.

"Okay," she started. "So, like I was saying before, I think I have everything I need here to replicate—"

Another knock came at the door. Giles jumped out of his seat like his ass was spring-loaded.

"That must be Buffy."

"Well, I'm sure she'll just—

"Hey guys!" Buffy greeted them.

"Come in," Willow finished.

"What's the news, Giles?" Buffy asked, sitting next to Willow. "Why did you want me here?"

Willow glared at the books before her so neither of them could see how annoyed she was.

Giles cleared his throat, "Um, yes. Willow has a new idea to improve the sunlight spell she's been working on and I thought we-we could all go over it. That is, before patrol tonight."

"Coolio! What's the new take, Willow?"

Willow unclenched her jaw.

"Right, uh… well, basically I can't manufacture artificial sunlight. It consists of too many different components: visual light, radiant light, UVA and UVB rays, x-rays, radio waves, whatever gamma rays aren't filtered out by the atmosphere…"

"And trying to replicate all that energy could be dangerous," Buffy concluded.

"Well it would be, if you could do it," Willow said. "But I can't. I've tried and something always goes wrong. So, I thought I could find a spell that would replicate just one of the wavelengths on the electro-magnetic spectrum. We would try it and see if it, you know, acts like sunlight, makes the vampires go poof."

"Yeah, but which one?"

"Well, we've eliminated radio waves and radiant energy," Giles explained, sitting at the desk chair. "They are so prevalent even indoors, that if they worked, there wouldn't be any vampires anywhere."

"Visual light is unlikely too," Buffy added. "Both Spike and Angel don't seem to be effected by indirect light when they are indoors."

"Gamma energy is out as well," Willow said. "It seeps through the atmosphere even at night. Plus, if I replicated it and something went wrong, I could cook us from the inside out."

Giles looked up at her sharply and she pointedly ignored his gaze.

"Yeah, let's avoid that," Buffy agreed.

"So that leaves UV rays."

"Makes sense," Buffy said. "You don't see many vampires clamoring for the tanning beds, even if they are open 24 hours."

"Unfiltered UV rays are still dangerous," Giles muttered. "I don't know that it's a great idea to be replicating it in large quantities."

"I'll wear SPF 50," Willow answered flatly. She managed a small smile at his concerned look.

"Yeah, Willow can handle it, Giles," Buffy said, putting her arm around her friend. "I have absolute confidence in her abilities."

"So-so do I," he stammered quickly. "It's just…never mind. What spell were you thinking of using, Willow?"

"There's a few in this German volume from the turn of the century," she said, standing up.

"Where are you going?"

"Bathroom. Be right back."

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Fine, why?"

He nodded to her hand. She was gripping the arm of the sofa so hard her knuckles had turned white.

"Just a little light-headed. There's this bug going around campus. I think I'm coming down with it. You guys look through that book. I'll be back in a sec."

As she padded down the hall, she heard Buffy hiss to Giles, "What is with you two? You're acting like she is going to break. And she looks like she's about ready to-"

Willow closed the door quickly, deciding to let him handle it.

Seeing her reflection in the mirror, she could understand why he had been concerned. She had no color in her cheeks. This thing between them was really getting under her skin. They couldn't keep this up forever. They were going to have to drop the act. And Willow knew what that meant: another talk.

She sighed loudly. It would have to be her that brought it up.

"After patrol," she announced to her reflection. She braced herself again and opened the bathroom door.

"Find anything?" She sat in a chair opposite the couch.

"Didn't, um, didn't really have a chance," Giles answered. "But it occurred to me that there was something that might work in this American book from the Civil War period."

He handed her a leather-bound tome, opened halfway.

"It's rendered in classical Latin," he explained. "Probably for the drama, I suspect. But it might do."

Willow read over the verse. _Neque ardoris nec lucis, Incende inimicum meum de notce…_

"Neither heat, nor light," she translated. "To burn—

"Imperative, singular," Giles corrected.

"Oh, right," Willow continued. "Burn my enemies of the night…"

"Oooh, poetic," Buffy said.

"Quite," Giles agreed.

"Yup." Willow shut the book with finality. "Should do the trick."

"Don't you want to test it first?" Giles asked.

"Nope," she answered decisively. "No vampires around. The only thing I'd be able to do is give us all a healthy, Mediterranean glow."

"Yeah, but Will—" Buffy started.

"It's fine!" She stood up. "Only one way to test it out. To the cemetery!"

She could feel their raised eyebrows, but refused to look behind her as she headed for the door.

"Come on, guys," she called over her shoulder. "Daylight's fading!"

The sooner she got patrolling, the sooner she could come back and clear up this awkwardness that had become the dominating feature in her life.

* * *

He knew he was screwing up. He knew that every question of concern, every raised eyebrow, was pulling their already strained friendship further apart. The lines of frustration etched in her forehead told him as much. But he couldn't stop. He _was_ concerned.

No matter how much she insisted otherwise, she had not been okay since their encounter. Each gesture, every word, was carefully calculated so as not to be misconstrued. He could see the effort behind the act. It was exhausting her. It was exhausting both of them.

She looked so pale.

"You know, there's really no pressure on you to perform this spell tonight," he remarked casually.

She didn't look back, "I know."

Buffy had suggested that they split up into two groups. She went off alone and threw Giles a look of arch meaning. _I don't know what's going on and I don't need to. Just fix it._

"It does expend a lot of energy," he continued.

"So did trying to end the world."

"That's not funny, Willow."

She finally stopped and faced him. "I know. What I meant was, I can handle it. You know I can handle it. You say that you trust me to handle it. Yet, you're still hemming and hawing. So, why don't you tell me what's really going on?"

He felt his breath catch in his throat. She had done it. Finally, she had called him out. Laid all the cards on the table. It was only fair that he reciprocate.

"You just," he paused. "You just don't look well. I don't think you're 100 percent."

So much for honesty.

"I'm not," she deadpanned. "I have the flu. I told you, almost everyone at school has it."

Her voice softened slightly. "But it's not going to affect my magicks. I would never do anything to put you or anyone else in danger. Not again. You have got to start trusting that I am okay."

He nodded, embarrassed. He reached out his hand to place on her shoulder, but hesitated.

Her eyes flicked toward his hand and her mask was in place again, a casual look of unconcern. Only the creases around her eyes told the truth.

She resumed her clipped pace ten steps ahead of him.

He winced in agitation. He must have been hardwired to say the wrong thing. He could speak five languages and could not think of one thing to say in any of them that would have made them the way they were before all of this. Or that would have even made them just okay.

"Giles, down!"

He blinked in confusion and felt something grab him from behind. He followed his first instinct, which was to push his center of balance forward and throw whatever it was over his back. The vampire sprawled out on the ground in front of him, hissing. Before Giles could straighten, the demon grabbed him by his neck and was pulling him down toward his mouth.

"Giles!" He heard Willow scream.

He reached into his boot and his fingers slipped around the stake he had concealed there. Just out of his grasp. The damned thing was too strong. His vision started to swim.

He heard a muffled thump and he could breathe again. Sort of. He clutched at his throat, hearing his breath come in hacking gasps.

"Giles, move out of the way!"

He managed to roll to the side and watched her begin the incantation. The words were lost under the sound of his strangled coughs.

There was a whooshing sound and the air around the vampire distorted and bent. It was like watching dark light, if such a thing existed. The vampire writhed and screamed, then was gone in a puff of ash. The air was clear again and the graveyard seemed unnaturally silent.

Willow's smile of triumph vanished and was replaced with a confused, slightly sick look. Her eyes lost their focus and she slumped over. Giles only had time to put his hand between her forehead and the ground before she cracked it on a footstone.

"Ow," he stated, matter-of-factly. He eased his hand out from beneath her head and flexed it tentatively. It didn't seem to be broken.

He rolled her over gently, so her head was resting on his lap.

His brow creased as he looked her over. Her pulse was fine and her breathing was quick, but normal. Reaching out with his mind, as he had been taught at the coven, he couldn't detect any aberrant magical energy that would have caused her to faint.

"Willow," he called, patting her cheek lightly. She stirred and grunted.

"Wha- where?" She tried to push up from her position and sunk back again with a groan. "Ohhh, dizzy."

"Just, don't try to move right now," he told her, lightly brushing back her hair. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Willow mumbled. "The spell worked! And then… oh, I'm gonna be sick."

He helped her roll off his lap and held her hair back as she threw up on some unfortunate person's grave.

"Maybe, you were right," she said, still on all fours.

"What's that?"

"About doing magicks when you're sick."

He didn't answer. Willow rocked back into a sitting position.

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head and stood up. He offered his hand to help her to her feet, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

"Let's head back," he decided. "We can call Buffy from the car and meet with her later."

She nodded in agreement, still holding on to his hand.

Willow could tell he was uncomfortable with her holding on to him, but she decided he would have to deal. There were dark spots still dancing on the edge of her vision and if she passed out again, she was taking him with her. She swore they had not parked so far away.

She was about to ask if they could sit down again when they reached the clearing.

Sinking into the squishy leather of the passenger's seat, she let out a small sigh. Thank God Giles had ditched that awful Citroen for the convertible. It had much more leg room.

After a moment, she realized that they weren't moving. Giles was staring at her. He had that purse-lipped look, the one he got when he was about to tell them that the world was ending. She could feel her pulse ratchet up.

"Willow?" She had to strain to hear his voice, it was so low. "Are you pregnant?"

She could feel what was left of the color drain from her face.

"No!"

"Are you sure?"

"Well, yeah, I'm sure," she said hesitantly. "I mean, a week after we—you know, after us… I had my monthly, you know, thing."

She couldn't look at him, but she could practically feel the embarrassment radiating off him. He turned the key in the ignition.

"You don't really think…" she trailed off. But she knew the answer. There was no way that Giles would have brought it up unless it was a genuine concern.

"I don't know," he said. He stared ahead for a long time at nothing, before putting the car in drive.

"Do you?"

Willow didn't answer. Her breath came in short gasps. She had no energy. She was dizzy and nauseated all the time. She had had her period one week after she and Giles had sex, but it was short. Too short.

The black spots had returned.

"There's a-," She swallowed. "There's a 24 hour pharmacy up here on the right."

She closed her eyes as Giles swerved into the parking lot and her stomach lurched. She could feel him watching her, but she didn't open her eyes or make a move to get out to go inside.

"Do you want me to—"

"Nope," she cut him off and jumped out of the car. She wanted to get this over with.

She checked out as quickly as possible and was back in the front seat. The silence between the two of them was unbearable and for the first time in four weeks, she understood the awkwardness that Giles felt towards her. There was nothing she could say that would be okay or even make sense.

"Giles, are you alright?"

"What?" He couldn't help but chuckle.

Willow smiled a little.

"You look really worried."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I know, I know," she conceded. "But it's gonna work out okay. And honestly? You're freaking me out a little."

He sighed. "You're right. I'm just—thinking too much."

Willow relaxed a little. Despite everything, it was the most honest exchange they had had in weeks.

"Hello. Oh, good," Willow's head snapped up in confusion, then she realized he was talking to Buffy on his mobile. "Yes, the spell…worked. Willow's not feeling too well, so I think I'm going to take back her to my apartment. Yes, I'll catch up with you tomorrow. Okay. Goodnight, Buffy."

"Don't you think she'll wonder why you're not bringing me back to her place?"

"She might," he replied patiently. "But I didn't think it was the right time to explain."

Back at Giles's apartment, Willow had read the instructions on the box for the pregnancy test seven times and it still wasn't making any sense. Even after she used the damn thing and reread the easy-to-follow guidelines, she still wasn't quite getting it. There was a buzzing in her head that was making it hard to concentrate. And it was way too bright in that bathroom. When had Giles changed to those harsh, energy-saving bulbs? How long was she supposed to wait anyway? How long had it been? And how did she know the test was positive or not? Where was the damn box again?

"Willow?" Giles' voice came from outside the door.

"I can't do it!" She was startled at how high her voice sounded.

"Can't do what, Willow?"

"I can't read it."

"Can you open the door?"

She opened the door and peeked out, "I don't know how to read it. I keep reading the instructions and they don't make any sense. Nothing's making sense…"

"Sshhh…" He put his hand on her shoulder. "Would you like me to read it?"

She nodded.

He took the test from her and scanned over it. The look on his face told Willow what it said. She felt her feet go out from under her.

He caught her before she hit the ground this time. She hadn't passed out, but she looked like she might.

"It's okay, Willow," he murmured. He wrapped his arm around her waist and helped her to stand. "Do you think you can walk?"

Willow nodded. He guided her to the couch, where she sank into the cushions. Her eyes began to lose focus.

"Put your head between your knees and breathe slowly," he instructed.

Some part of him was glad of her physical reaction. He was good at this part, the making things better part. And it put off the talking that would inevitably follow.

Several seconds passed and Willow brought her head up with a deep breath.

She didn't look at him. He couldn't blame her. He was disgusted with himself, he couldn't even imagine what she thought of him.

"I need to—I'm sorry, I need to be alone." She gripped the sofa arm, gathering herself up to leave.

"No, you don't need to go." He stood up. "I'll leave. Just, stay until you feel better."

He cursed himself quietly. There wasn't much chance of that happening now.

"Where will you go?"

"Just for a walk. I'll be back in a little while, if you want to talk. If not… it's okay."

Willow nodded. She still hadn't looked up at him. He left the apartment before he could see the blame in her eyes. He was sure there would be plenty of that to come.

He made it as far as his car before his knees buckled. He found himself in the driver's seat, gripping the steering wheel and gasping for air.

"What—what have I done?"

There was no getting past this. No matter what she decided to do, he had effectively ruined her life. The girl that he loved more than almost anyone else, he had ruined her. And he had lost one of his best friends. There would be no knitting together the remains of their tattered relationship after this. There was no way that she couldn't hold him responsible.

She would want to get rid of it. And who could blame her? What twenty-two-year-old would want to have a baby with her middle-aged, what? Friend? Mentor? Father-figure? Anyway you twisted it, it was Oedipal and borderline incestuous.

And he would support her, because it was the right thing to do.

Then, he would be out of her life for good. There would be no way that she would want him anywhere near her after she had to have an abortion because of him. And everyone would find out. How could they not, in a group as tight as theirs?

Oh God, what would Buffy think?

He buried his face in his hands.

Was there any part of this that wasn't a nightmare?

It was getting late, or rather, it was getting early. The sky was growing pink with dawn. He really should go back inside. Had he given her enough time to sneak out unnoticed?

He was startled out of his self-loathing by a tap on the passenger's side window. Willow gave him a little wave and gestured for him to unlock the door. She opened the car door and slid into the seat.

He cleared his throat, but his voice still came out in a hoarse whisper.

"Still feeling dizzy?"

Willow shook her head, "I ate a couple of those shortbread cookies you had in your pantry. Hope you don't mind."

"Of course not."

"I think the low-blood sugar wasn't helping."

He swallowed, "Willow… I want you to know that I will support whatever decision you make. And I just… I never wanted to hurt you like this. I never wanted to-

"Giles." She grabbed his hand firmly and deliberately. She looked him in the eye before continuing.

"You didn't hurt me. I'm not hurt. I'm not dying. I'm going to be fine."

She took a breath. "It's a lot to take in all at once. I'm feeling a lot of things. Mostly nervous and scared. But everything I'm feeling… it's not _all_ bad."

He stared at her blankly, sure that he was hearing her wrong.

"It's not ideal. I'm not going to pretend that it is. But I'm not a kid, I'm not even a teenager. I'm in my last year of my degree in college. It's not that unusual for people my age to have children. And honestly, Giles? Any kid that is half of you and half of me? Can't be all that bad. I mean, we make a pretty good team, right?"

Giles let out a choked laugh.

"We do." He squeezed her hand.

She leaned over the consol to hug him.

"Oh, Willow," he sighed.

"Just promise me one thing?"

"Anything."

"You've got to stop apologizing, okay?" She gave him her patented look of mock-seriousness, but he knew she meant it. He ducked his head and nodded.

"Okay," she smiled and rested her head against his chest.

Giles had seen a lot of encounters with higher powers in his lifetime. Most of them were unpleasant and painful and left him questioning an overall divine master plan. But this was his first encounter with grace. He knew he hadn't done anything to deserve this, but he was determined now to figure out a way to earn her forgiveness.


	3. Big Bad

"I just don't remember the decibel level being quite that high before."

"I've always snored, Xander," Anya snapped. "This is not news."

"Yeah, but honey, now it sounds like a natural disaster." Xander turned to Willow. "There's gotta be some spell you can use to muffle the sounds that are coming out of this woman's mouth. Or maybe make me deaf? Willow… what's wrong? You're looking a little… green."

Willow's head snapped up, "Huh? No-what? I'm fine."

"Where'd you go?"

"Sorry." Willow gave a weak smile. "Just tired. Haven't been sleeping too well lately."

"So, what's the big announcement?" Xander asked, clapping his hands together. "Do we get a hint?"

"Wait until Buffy gets here," Giles admonished, taking a seat in the desk chair.

"Yeah, where is the Buffster? This is her house we're using…"

"I think she's with Spike," Anya supplied.

"She's been hanging out with him a lot, lately," Xander observed darkly. "You don't suppose they're…"

"Becoming reacquainted with each other in a sexual capacity?" Anya finished.

"I doubt it," Willow muttered.

"What makes you so sure?" Xander asked.

The door slammed.

"Sorry, I'm late guys!"

Buffy bounced into the living room and plopped between Anya and Xander on the sofa.

"Buffy, Xander wants to know if you and Spike are resuming your intimate relations," Anya updated the latest arrival.

"Does he?" Buffy arched an eyebrow at Xander. Giles suddenly became fascinated with organizing the pile of junk mail that had accumulated on the desk.

"Well, not that it's any of his business," she began, looking straight at Xander. "But no, Spike and I are passed that… phase of our acquaintanceship."

"Good to know, Buffy," Xander replied. "Not that's it's any of my business. I mean, I know that the guy has a soul now and it seems like his heart's in the right place. But something about the thought of you bumping uglies with a dead guy, even if he is alive…"

Giles coughed loudly. "Thank you, Xander. A special kind of horror as always. Now, Willow has something to tell you all, so…"

He gave her a small nod and Willow took a deep breath.

They had decided that this was the best way to break the news to everyone, but now Willow was having second thoughts. Phrases like "unwed mother" and "financially and emotionally unequipped," flooded her head. Maybe it would have been better to have Giles tell everyone. Preferably while she was on vacation. In Malta. She could come back in a month when the shock had worn off.

"Will?" Xander broke into her thoughts. "You're getting that chartreuse glow again. You sure you're feeling okay?"

Willow nodded.

"Yeah." Her voice came out in a squeak.

She cleared her throat, "There's really no easy way to say this, so I'm just gonna… say it."

She swallowed and concentrated on staring at a point right above Buffy's head.

"I'm pregnant."

The three open-mouthed stares that greeted her did not disappoint.

"Wow, that's great Willow!" Willow mocked them in a tiny voice. "Congratulations!"

The stares continued.

"Okay, I'm gonna go." She jumped up.

Giles and Buffy both called out to her, but Buffy stood up and got to her first. She wrapped her friend in a tight hug.

"That's great, Willow," she whispered. "Congratulations."

Willow let out a choked giggle.

Buffy pulled away, "Sorry about the non-verbal reaction, Will."

She gestured to the couch where Anya was watching Willow with her head cocked to the side and Xander seemed be having a hard time closing his mouth.

"But you have to admit, it is unexpected."

"Yeah," Willow nodded, wiping away a tear. "Wasn't exactly planned."

"Aren't you gay?"Anya demanded.

"Yeah, who is the father?" Xander chimed in. Then a look of realization flooded his face, "Or is there no father? Is this, like, a magic baby?"

It was Willow's turn to cock her head to the side.

"How is it that you think magic works, Xander?"

"Oh, no!"Anya exclaimed. "Giles is the father, isn't he?"

Xander and Buffy burst out laughing.

"Yeah, right," Xander said. "No offense, Giles, but I'm stick with my magic theory, even that seems more likely than…"

But Giles wasn't paying attention. He was examining the pattern in the carpet intently, his face growing pinker with each passing second.

"No way…"Xander murmured.

Giles finally met his inquisitive stare.

"No way!" Xander jumped off of the sofa. "How…? Why? When? Why?!"

Buffy's glaze flicked between Willow and Giles, her eyes growing rounder with each pass.

"It's a long story," Willow finally spoke up.

"Not that long," Anya broke in.

"Oh Lord," Giles muttered.

"Willow performed a spell so Buffy wouldn't find Spike sexually attractive anymore, but the spell back-fired and made Will super-horny. So she went over to Giles' apartment and seduced him. And he had to sleep with her or she would internally combust from the burning of sexual desire."

"When did this happen?" Xander asked.

"About a month ago, right?"

"Thank you, Anya," Giles said. "Trustworthy indeed," he remarked under his breath. He looked like he hoped the carpet would swallow him whole.

Buffy opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it and turned to Willow instead.

"Willow, I think we need some girl time." She glanced towards the staircase.

"Yeah, okay," Willow said as she blotted her cheeks with her shirt sleeves.

"Wait," said Anya, leaping up. "I'm a girl!"

Buffy considered. "Yeah, alright, I guess you are."

Anya bolted up the stairs. Buffy spared one last searching glance at her Watcher before following at a more restrained pace.

"Wait, Will." Xander tapped her on the shoulder before she could follow. He engulfed her in his arms.

"Congratulations, Will," he whispered into her hair.

Willow snorted dubiously, "Yeah, right."

Xander pulled back, holding her at arms' length and looked her in the eye, "I mean it! I truly do. Any kid of yours is going to be incredible. I can't wait to meet her. Or him."

Willow beamed, "Thanks, Xander."

She embraced him again.

"You're one of the most important people in the world to me. It means a lot that you…"

"I know," he agreed.

Willow pointed to the staircase, "I guess I better…"

"Go," Xander agreed. "Have your special girl time. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay," Willow started up the stairs. "See you later, Giles!"

"Goodnight, Willow," he returned.

The two men watched as she hurried up the stairs. As soon as the door to Buffy's bedroom closed behind her, Xander turned to face Giles, his mouth set in a hard line.

"You wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking?"

* * *

Willow joined Anya and Buffy on the bed.

"So," Buffy greeted her. "Wow."

"Yeah," Willow agreed.

"So, how are you feeling?" Buffy asked awkwardly.

"Same as yesterday, I guess. Tired mostly." Willow adjusted her cross-legged position. "And nauseated. And dizzy. I get really dizzy when I stand up suddenly. But other than that, I feel fine."

"You don't look any fatter," Anya observed helpfully.

"Thanks," Willow said. "Give it time."

"So…" Buffy ventured.

"You keep saying that."

"Sorry, Will. I—I know I'm being awkward. And I don't mean to be. It's just a lot to take in."

"Tell me about it."

"Yeah, I guess that's an understatement."

"So you decided to have the baby?" Anya asked.

"I would hardly be telling you about it if I weren't," Willow replied, cheeks bright red.

"Anya," Buffy admonished her. "That's hardly the most tactful way to address that question!"

"I'm sorry. What's the polite way of asking someone if they are going to have an abortion?"

"No one's having an abortion!" Willow exclaimed.

"Okay! God! I didn't think it was completely out of the question considering the circumstances!"

Buffy took Willow's hand, "How did Giles react, when you found out?"

"About how you'd expect," Willow said. "I found him in his car, crying."

"Oh God," Buffy grumbled darkly.

Willow shook her head, "But he was really supportive. I just wish he would stop apologizing."

Buffy grimaced, "Do you know how you two are going to…? I mean, when the baby comes, are you going to…"

"I don't know," Willow replied. "We didn't really get that far. We just found out last night. Haven't really had time to go through custody proceedings."

Buffy nodded, her mouth in a tight smile.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything, Buffy," Willow said.

"Why didn't you?" Buffy asked softly.

"I was so embarrassed! You have no idea!" She explained. "Not only did the first spell I tried to do since coming back to the States backfire, but I _acted_ so…"

Buffy squeezed her hand.

"And then, he's _Giles_!" Willow exclaimed. "He's your Watcher! I didn't know how you'd react if I told you I had… that I had shared a part of him that you hadn't."

"You think I want to sleep with Giles?"

"No! But, it's not just about the sex—"

"How was that, by the way?" Anya broke in.

"We got really close over the summer and then this whole thing…" Willow continued over Anya. "I didn't want you to think we were boxing you out."

"I bet it was great," Anya said, twirling a piece of her hair. "He's got those arms, like a… what are they called?"

"Willow, I'm not going to lie. I was a little jealous about the time you two have been spending together. And now this…" Buffy said. "But, it was obviously not something either of you planned. And I don't want this to devolve into some sibling rivalry thing for Dad's affection."

Willow winced.

"Wow, that was the wrong thing to say under the circumstances," Buffy back-tracked.

"And lots of experience," Anya went on. "I bet he's got considerable stamina."

"Anya!" Willow and Buffy finally shouted together.

"You want to know how good Giles is in bed, why don't you go sleep with him?" Buffy snapped.

"Sorry!" Anya said. "Nothing wrong with a little healthy curiosity."

Buffy raised her eyebrow, "What the matter, An? Xander not getting the job done for ya?"

"Oh, he gets it done," Anya assured them, peaking through the Venetian blinds. "We've started this doing this thing with the shower nozzle and a vacuum-packed… huh, that's weird."

"You're telling me," Willow agreed.

"Xander's car is gone."

"Must have gotten tired of waiting," Buffy said.

"I guess I can get a ride back with Giles," Anya said, crossing the room. "Don't worry, Willow, I don't have any designs on your baby daddy's virtue."

She closed the door harder than necessary behind her.

Willow looked slightly sick.

Buffy turned back to Willow and tucked a piece of her friend's hair behind her ear.

"So how was the sex?"

* * *

"I know how it sounded, but that really wasn't a rhetorical question," Xander continued. "What the hell happened?"

Giles could feel his face growing hot. He had had a premonition that something like this would happen.

"Obviously, it wasn't something I planned." He walked back to the living room and returned to the desk chair.

"Maybe not," Xander started, following after him. "But when the opportunity fell into your lap, you didn't exactly turn it down."

"You heard Anya," Giles snapped. "There wasn't any other option—"

"Bullshit!"

"Excuse me?"

"I said, 'bullshit,'" Xander's voice was a breath away from shouting volume, "You're the Watcher! The great and powerful Ripper. The man with all the answers. Six months ago, you swooped in one afternoon and prevented an apocalypse!"

"That wasn't—"

"And you're telling me," Xander continued. "That you couldn't find some way to break a... _lust_ spell other than jumping in Willow's pants?"

Giles spoke quietly, "There wasn't enough time…"

Xander shook his head with disgust, "She _trusted_ you. _I_ trusted you. I mean, God, Giles, I know she's good-looking. I'm not blind. But she's half your age!"

"I know."

"She's been like a daughter to you."

"That's not…" Giles let the sentence trail off. It wasn't untrue.

They sat in silence listening to the muffled voices from upstairs.

"Are you going to say anything about this to Willow?"

"No," Xander snorted. "If she wants to believe you're her savior and this whole thing was some happy accident-"

"You think it wasn't?" Giles demanded.

"Giles, you're a grown man! You never learned how condoms work?"

"You weren't there, Xander," his voice was a low growl. "You don't know how fast everything—"

"Agh!" Xander threw up his hands. "I don't want details!"

The two regarded each other wearily.

"You should have done better, Giles."

Giles closed his eyes and turned away.

"I know."

Xander nodded, "As far as Willow is concerned, she never needs to know that this conversation took place. She needs support right now and I'll be there for her. Because that's what I do." He shrugged on his jacket, "But you and me are not okay."

Giles winced at the sound of the front door slamming.

* * *

"Xander! I didn't know you were going to be on campus! And what a nutritious spread you've selected!"

"Hey, don't knock it," Xander said around a mouthful of carrot cake. "This stuff is man-fuel. Powers me through my day in a way that an energy bar just doesn't touch."

Willow and Buffy grinned.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you, Xand," Buffy started. "But what brings you to these hallowed halls of academia?"

Xander swallowed, "Asbestos removal in the freshman dorms on the north side of campus."

Willow grimaced.

"Oh, I'm not doing the actual removal," he clarified. "That task is reserved for manly men than me. Men who have hardened their lungs with a lifetime of smoking and don't mind breathing in a couple of pints of fiberglass. I'm just doing the sheetrock installation when they're done. Thought I'd drop over and see my two favorite girls while the hard work was going on."

"What about Anya?" Buffy asked. "Isn't she one of your favorite girls?"

"Anya's in a category all be herself," Xander replied. "She my favorite ex-demon girl."

"Is she having any luck on the job search?"

"No, but she seems to have made a full-time career out of managing mine, in between the nagging, bickering and the occasional…" he made a pumping motion with his fist.

Buffy gave him a tight-lipped smile to display her disgust.

"I don't know why you didn't go through with the wedding, if you two were just going to end up like a married couple anyway," Willow reasoned. "At least that way you would have gotten the tax break."

"It'll get better," Xander said. "It has to get better… On the previous subject of nutrition, Will, it looks like you're avoiding the issue altogether."

"Oh, I already ate," Willow explained.

"Okay, I ate this morning," she qualified, in response to Buffy's raised eyebrow. "It just didn't stay down."

"Don't mothers-to-be and tiny babies need, you know, sustenance?"

"I do! We do…" Willow hedged. "Food just hasn't really appealed to me recently. I'm sure my appetite will pick up again."

"So do you know if it's a boy or a girl yet?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah! I found out yesterday!"

"And?" Xander asked, his fork hovering in mid-air. "Don't keep us in suspense!"

Willow grinned, "I'm having a girl. Sorry, Xander, it looks like your doomed to be outnumbered."

"Hey, that's okay! I like girls! Congratulations, Will!"

"Wow," Buffy looked dazed. "It's all becoming kinda real now, isn't it?"

Willow nodded.

"You have one of those blurry black and white pictures yet?" Xander asked.

"An ultra-sound? No, it's still too early. I'll let you know when I do."

Xander concentrated on saturating his fries in ketchup, "Did Giles go with you to the doctor?"

"No," Willow looked down. "I didn't want to bother him."

Xander glanced at Buffy over his mound of fried carbs.

"I'm sure he wouldn't feel bothered, Willow," Buffy said gently. "He is the father."

Willow smiled sadly. "It's complicated."

"Have you two had a chance to talk at all?"

"Not really. Well, we have, but neither of us really know what to say. He says he wants to help, but… I don't really think he does. Or if he does, he doesn't know how. It's okay, though. I'm doing fine on my own. There's nothing much to handle at this point anyway."

"Well, we're here for you, Willow," Xander said. "You know you can count on us if you need help with anything."

"I know, guys," she said quietly. "Thank you."

"Actually, speaking of Giles," Buffy said. "I have a meeting at his place."

"Need any help?" Willow asked.

"Slayer stuff," Buffy slid off the bar stool. "I'll let you know, though, if there's anything I need later."

"Godspeed, Buffster," Xander saluted her.

Buffy rolled her eyes with a smile and was gone.

* * *

"Are you sure you want to involve Willow in this?"

"Giles, I'm out of options," Buffy said, exasperated. "And having the most powerful Wicca in the western hemisphere on our side could be kind of a plus right now."

"It's just the timing…"

"Is bad, I know. Do you have any better ideas?"

Giles shook his head.

"Willow could think of something that we haven't."

He sighed and leaned back into the sofa.

"I don't deny that it's a possibility. I just don't want her in harm's way right now. She has a tendency to disregard her own safety when it comes to witchcraft."

"Well, I'm sure it won't come to that," Buffy tried to placate him. "Besides, she's been better about that since she came back from England, hasn't she?"

Giles sort of half-nodded.

"See? Nothing to worry about!" She waited a beat before abruptly changing the subject. "So I hear ya'll are having a girl."

He smiled and nodded quickly.

"You excited?"

"Uh…" His brow wrinkled as he tried to figure out the best way to answer. Luckily, he was saved by a sharp knock at the front door. "Come in, Willow!"

Buffy treated him to a trademark eye roll and gave him a look that told him that this conversation was not over.

"Hey guys!" Willow greeted them. She shrugged off her backpack and sat in a chair facing them.

"Feeling alright?" Giles asked her, a faint twinge of pink coloring his cheeks.

"Fine," Willow shrugged off the question. "So, what's the Scooby emergency? I asked Xander to come, but I think he must still be busy on the construction site, cause he said he couldn't make it."

"Oh, well, th-that's fine," he stuttered.

"It's really you we need right now, Will," Buffy cut in. "Got a new Big Bad in town. We're hoping you might have a new take on how we can bring this thing down."

"Obviously, we didn't want to bother you," Giles said.

"It's not a bother," Willow muttered. She was already engrossed in one of the books that was lying open on the coffee table. "Gross! Is this it? The Turok-han?"

"That's him."

"You saw one of these things?"

"Up close and personal," Buffy confirmed.

"It attacked you? When?"

Buffy and Giles exchanged a look.

"About two weeks ago."

"Oh, Buffy! Were you okay? You should have told me!"

"Well, it was right after you found out about the baby," Buffy explained. "And we kinda figured you had enough on your plate for one week."

Willow nodded, her mouth in a flat line. "So, what's the story with this baddy?"

"They are a special race of vampire," Giles began. "Very old. Their origin has only been speculated upon, but there are many who believe they are the descendents of early man, bitten by demons and driven underground. They're notoriously hard to kill. Beheading and staking will dispatch them, but they show no weakness towards crosses, garlic or holy water."

"They're ubervamps," Buffy summarized.

Giles nodded. "They are more animal-like than the variety we have dealt with in the past. They don't have any human weaknesses, acting only on instinct."

"Where did this thing come from?"

"We don't know," Giles said gravely.

"And do we know how many we are dealing with?"

"So far, I've just seen the one," Buffy said. "After it attacked me, Spike and I started tracking it. It doesn't seem to have any interest in hunting normal civilians. I think it's safe to assume that it's after me."

"And, how did that fight go? I mean…"

"Long story short? It kicked my ass. I thought my right leg was going to have to go in traction. Thank God for super-Slayer healing."

"Wow, Buffy."

"Yeah," she agreed.

"Well, we could always try the UV spell," Willow suggested. "It worked pretty well the last time."

"No," Giles said sharply.

"Giles is right, Willow," Buffy said. "I don't want you getting anywhere near this thing. Any of you."

Willow thought for a moment.

"Well," she began slowly. "There's one way to perform the spell without any of us having to get close… We could always do another enjoining spell."

Giles cleared his throat.

"Um, Will?" Buffy asked. "Perhaps you're forgetting the result of that first spell? The one where the spirit of the First Slayer tried to murder us all in our sleep?"

"I haven't forgotten," she protested. "But you've done so much work since then! Finding out the source of your power, all the training, the vision-quest… Giles knows! Come on! You know we could handle this now!"

He took off his glasses and began to clean them.

"It isn't only the First Slayer I'm worried about in this case, Willow," he put his glasses back on and looked at her carefully. "Doing magicks of that kind of power, when you're—when one is…"

"Pregnant," Willow supplied bluntly.

Giles nodded. "It can be very dangerous. For you and your child. I really wouldn't want you to take that risk unless we had no other choice."

Willow sighed.

"Don't worry, Will," Buffy assured her. "We're nowhere near that point yet. We'll find another way."

"Buffy's quite right. We haven't nearly exhausted our resources yet."

Willow gave them a skeptical look, but could see she was in no position to argue.

"Okay," she acquiesced. "I'll look over some of these books and see if I can figure out something. Buffy, just promise me you won't do anything rash until we can come up with a plan?"

* * *

It was past midnight two weeks later when Willow got the phone call. Her mobile buzzed and vibrated off the nightstand.

_Buffy Cell_.

"Hey, Buff," Willow greeted her. "You done with patrol already?"

"Red, it's Spike."

"Spike?"

"Get down to the hospital. It's Buffy."

Willow arrived in the trauma room at the ER twenty minutes later. Spike was pacing outside the door and Giles was seated with his head in his hands.

"What happened?"

"She went after that bleedin' ubervamp is what," Spike spat. "By herself."

"Is she gonna be okay?"

Giles looked up. His eyes were watery and bloodshot.

"She looks like she went through the ringer," Spike said.

"She's strong, Willow," Giles said. "She'll likely make a full recovery. She's been in surgery for an hour."

Willow swallowed the lump in her throat and it stung all the way down.

"Sounds like we just ran out of options."


	4. The Spell

"Buffy, you look like hell."

"Hey, be nice, Spike," Willow chided him. "Our little Buffster's been through a lot."

"Sorry Willow," Xander chimed in. "I'm with Spike on this one. The florescent light is doing nothing to flatter those bruises, Buff."

Buffy pouted. "I knew I should have spackled on some foundation before I let you guys in."

"You look fine, Buffy," Giles squeezed her non-dislocated shoulder. "And obviously, we're all glad you're alright."

"Of course, you only have yourself to blame for the state you're in," Spike stated.

"Spike!" Willow punched him lightly on the arm.

"It's the truth," Spike said. "You know you had no business attacking that thing alone."

"What would you have done, Spike?"

"I would have minded my own bloody business is what."

Buffy smiled sadly. "No you wouldn't have."

"Yeah? Well, maybe I wouldn't have, but I would have waited for the cavalry before charging in there like some suicidal hero."

"Buffy, can you tell us what happened?" Giles prodded.

She took a deep breath, "I was doing my nightly recon on the Turok-han. It hasn't done anything but stalk around for a few hours at midnight for a month. But I guess last night it got hungry. There was a family, a mom and two kids, getting out of a van in front of their house. They looked like they were getting in from a road trip, I mean, they had luggage and stuff. He went for the boy first. He looked about four or five. Snapped his neck before I could touch him. He was about to get the mom when I reached him. They were able to get inside the house and call an ambulance while I was fighting the thing. Not that it did any good. The paramedics couldn't save the kid and as for me…"

She gestured to her broken body. Other than the facial contusions and the dislocated shoulder, she had a hairline fracture in her femur and several broken ribs.

"God, Buffy," Willow murmured.

Xander cleared his throat. "And the vamp?"

"I think I gave him something to think about. But that's it. I couldn't take him. He cleared out before the ambulance got there."

No one could think of anything to say after that. The only sound was the plunk of the saline drip.

Buffy began to fidget, "You guys can't do anything tonight and I'm exhausted. You should go home for now."

"Buffy, I don't know…" Willow began.

"I'll stay," Spike volunteered.

"Spike will stay," Buffy assured them. "You guys try to get some sleep."

They muttered their goodbyes and made promises to stop by in the morning.

As soon as they closed the door behind them, Willow turned to Giles and Xander, her eyes set and determined.

"You know what this means."

"What?"

"Willow, no," Giles stated.

" 'Willow, no' what?" Xander asked.

"The enjoining spell," Willow explained. "It's the best idea we've had to bring this thing down."

"It's too dangerous," Giles reiterated.

"Yeah, and even if I wasn't freaked out about getting more visits from the Ghost of Slayers Past, there's the whole Slayer-out-of-commission thing," Xander reasoned.

"So, we wait," Willow plowed on. "We'll wait until she's better. She's Buffy. She'll be back on her feet inside of two weeks. And you'd know she'd want to be the one to take this thing out."

Giles and Xander eyed her skeptically.

"Fine, come up with a better plan," Willow dared them. "You've got until Buffy's better."

She stalked out of the hospital without looking back at them. She didn't want them to see how bad her hands were shaking.

* * *

"Nope, count me out."

"Xander, I need all of us for the spell to work."

"Even me?" Anya asked hopefully.

"Yes, Anya," Willow said. "For the forty-third time, you are an integral part of this spell. Your experience with demon encounters is an invaluable resource."

Anya beamed. "Come on, Xander. What's the harm in one spell? You've been party to participation in the Dark Arts before."

"This is different."

"How?" Willow demanded.

Xander scowled. "It's dangerous. You heard Giles."

"Well, I'll tell you the same thing I told him: Buffy's gone a lot deeper in her training since the first time we tried the spell. I have faith that she has the power to channel any negative energy that the First Slayer throws at us."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Xander said in a low growl.

"What are you talking about?" Anya asked.

"She knows." Xander looked up at Willow.

She blushed and looked away, "I know the risks."

"Do you?" Xander asked. "Do you really?"

"I know what I need to know," Willow insisted.

"If he were any kind of father, he wouldn't let you go through with it," Xander grumbled.

"Giles has given his opinion," Willow snapped. "And he's not my Watcher. I know what I'm doing. And I can't sit by and watch this thing attack families, I mean, kids, Xander! Not to mention what it did to Buffy! I can't sit here and not do anything when I know I could stop it. And I don't know how you can either."

Xander looked away.

Willow glowered, "And don't sit back on your moral high horse thinking that you're standing on protest to protect me. Half the reason that you don't want to do it is because you're mad at Giles and you don't want him in your head, sharing your thoughts!"

"That's not—I'm not—why do you think-?" Xander stammered.

"I don't care why you're mad at him," Willow started.

Xander opened his mouth to interrupt her and she continued. "I can guess why, but I don't care. I need you. I need all of you. Buffy needs you. You're the person who keeps us centered, Xander. We need you to be that person now."

He sighed heavily and looked at Anya.

"She's right, babe," Anya agreed. "You might not have a lot going on up here," she tapped on his temple. "But you have a good heart."

Xander rolled his eyes, "Thanks, honey."

He looked at Willow, "I'll do it. Note my reservations though, Will."

"Reservations acknowledged," Willow confirmed. "I'll be as careful as I know how to be. I'll see you both at Giles's house at midnight?"

"I'll bring the doughnuts," Xander sighed.

* * *

Buffy had her leg thrown up on the back of Giles's sofa and was using it to stretch. He tried not to wince as he thought of the tread marks she was making in the upholstery.

"You're sure that you are up to this?" He asked.

"Wouldn't be here if I wasn't!"

She lowered her leg and grabbed onto to the desk chair, twisting her torso. Willow had been right. Buffy was nearly completely healed and it had only been a week and a half since her last encounter with the Turok-han. GIles had spent that time pouring over information regarding the uber-vampires, looking for another way to defeat them, but the sources were vague and scanty. Apparently, few enough people had actually lived after their encounter to write about it.

"Besides," she continued. "I've been laying on my back for too damn long. I'm itching for a good fight."

"Yes, that week must have been torture for you," Giles remarked sarcastically.

"You have no idea," she acknowledged.

"So, what's the fastest way to find this thing?" Xander asked.

"I'm not going to find it," Buffy explained. "I'm going to let it find me."

"Why do you think this thing is after you?"

"Don't care. Just know that it is. So I'm gonna let it have me. And then…"

"Aren't you freaked out?" Anya asked. "I mean, this thing handed your ass to you last time you fought it."

Buffy nodded. "I'm a little nervous. Spike offered to go with me, but I don't want him caught in the crosshairs when this thing goes down. Besides, I trust you guys."

Buffy kissed Willow on the cheek, "Synchronize our watches?"

Willow held up her empty wrist and shrugged.

"Oh well," Buffy said. "It's not really an exact science anyway."

"So, you remember how this is going to work?" Giles asked her.

"Yeah, wait a few minutes and then hold on while a flood of voices that aren't mine battle it out in my brain."

Willow grimaced.

"Kidding," Buffy said. "Sort of. It's not that bad. Besides, it's what we need to do."

She nodded.

"Well, I'm off. Good luck you guys!"

A chorus of "you too's" followed her as she let the door close behind her.

"Okay," Willow said. "Let's get this show on the road."

The four of them sat in a circle in the middle of the living room.

"Alright," she began. "Now you all remember how this is going to go."

Anya raised her hand, "Um, not all of us?"

"Oh, sorry, right. Okay, basically, the magic is pretty straight forward. I begin the incantation, asking for permission for us all to be joined and brought to the vessel—Buffy," she clarified.

"And after that, our consciousness is kinda taken out of our bodies and joined with hers. And we work together as a unit to help her defeat the ubervamp. And to do that we all need to, you know, function as a unit? Without any anger or petty hang ups?" She glanced pointedly at Xander and Giles.

"But it's actually pretty cool. Although I remember being kinda lightheaded afterwards." Giles mouth was a thin line. He took off his glasses and moved to clean them, but was stopped when Willow put her hand over his.

"It'll be okay." She looked up at him. "I promise."

He couldn't agree with her, so he gave her a smile and squeezed her hand.

"Let's get started."

She took a deep breath, "Okay. We enjoin that we may inhabit the vessel…"

Giles felt the room begin to spin and his pulse raced. He had forgotten how high he felt right before…

_"Owww!"_ He cried out in response to the sudden pain, a fist coming at his face and connecting with his jaw bone. But it wasn't his face; it was hers. And it wasn't him that cried out. It was all of them.

He was down on the ground, flat on his back, but then instinct took over and he rocked back and leapt to his feet. He was moving faster than he could form thoughts as he ducked and wove around the Turok-han's fists.

_"The left eye, aim for the left eye!"_ Came a command from somewhere in the back of his head. It sounded like Anya, but he couldn't be sure. He just reacted. The demon didn't even see his fist coming as he jabbed him near his left temple.

_"Good,_" came another voice. Xander. _"Now kick him in that same spot. Disorient him_," Again, Buffy's body moved before he could tell it to. The Turok-han was off-balance.

_"Alright,"_ he joined in. "_Just get him to the ground. We need a safe distance to perform the spell_."

He kicked the demon again and again and followed with a series of punches that were too fast to follow. Just as he was starting to get dizzy from the motion, the vampire was lying flat on the grass.

And then she spoke.

"_Neque ardoris nec lucis…"_

The air shimmered and bent around him. The vampire held up an arm as if to ward off the invisible light, but it was useless. His hand crumbled to ash and he screamed as the rest of his body followed.

_"Nice work, everyone_."

He felt the spinning sensation take over again. This time, the force was pulling him backwards, out of Buffy and across the distance to his house. Being back in his own head was like falling to Earth from a great height. Everything hurt at once. And then, the pain was gone.

He looked around the circle. Anya was rubbing her head as if trying to ascertain if everything was where it should be. Xander was staring at a spot behind her on the wall, his mouth slightly open. Willow's jaw was clamped shut and the hand that she was still holding felt like it was caught in a vice.

"Willow?"

When she turned to face him, his heart dropped to his stomach. Her face was completely white.

"Are you okay?"

She shook her head and swallowed. "I don't think so."

He held her as she slumped against his shoulder. "Giles, I'm sorry."

He pulled her to her feet and scooped her up in his arms.

"Xander," he barked.

Xander shook his head and slapped his cheeks.

"Wake up!"

"I'm up," Xander snapped. Then he saw Willow lying limp in Giles's arms and jumped to his feet.

"You need to drive," Giles said.

* * *

She didn't know how long she as unconscious, but she came to in the passenger's seat of Giles's car, curled up in his arms like a child.

"Left here," Giles directed.

Her stomach lurched and her throat stung as Xander swerved around the corner.

"Sorry, Will."

She wanted to tell him it was okay, but her mouth wasn't working right. Nothing seemed to be working right.

"I knew this was a mistake," Xander growled.

Giles sighed.

"You knew something like this could go wrong," he continued. "Why didn't you stop her?"

The two bickered back and forth. Willow wanted them to stop. She wanted to yell at Xander that this was nobody's fault but her own. But their words had stopped making sense. The rushing sound that had filled her head at the invocation hadn't dissipated. It seemed to be growing louder.

"It sounds like the ocean," she whispered. And she was gone again.

When she woke up the second time, she was alone. Alone with the doctors and their assistants and the loud machines. Where was everyone?

"BP's 180 over 95 and rising," someone yelled.

"Okay, sedate her again,"

"No, wait," she started to say.

But no one listened.

The fluorescent lights blurred and faded.

The third time she woke up, it was quiet. The faint light of dawn was seeping through the paper-thin hospital curtains and the only the beep of the heart monitor broke the silence. Beneath line that displayed the beat of her own heart was another labeled "fetal heart rate." It showed the baby's heart rate at a constant 120 beats per minute.

She let out a gasp of relief and clutched her abdomen is if to reassure herself that the machines weren't lying. That her baby was still safe.

"Hey, you're awake," came a sleepy voice. Buffy smiled at her from a hard, plastic chair in the corner of the room. Xander had fallen asleep on her arm and Buffy nudged him awake. He snorted, blinked and nearly fell out of the chair.

"Hey there, Will!"

"Hey guys." She smiled weakly. "Looks like you had a good night's sleep."

"Nothing like what you had," Xander mock-complained. "I heard they gave you the good drugs."

Her smiled faltered.

"What went wrong? The baby's okay… isn't she?"

"She fine, Will," Buffy assured her. "Your blood pressure went through the roof. That's what made you dizzy and disoriented."

"The doctors thought it was something called prelamia?" Xander tried to sound out the word.

"Preeclampsia?" Willow's knuckles turned white as she twisted the bed sheets in her fist.

"Yeah," Buffy broke in. "But it wasn't. It was just the spell. Your blood pressure was back to normal within an hour or so. They just kept you overnight for observation."

She let out a breath and bit her lip.

"Hey." Xander sat next to her. "You're okay! Everything's gonna be fine. You didn't have any freaky First-Slayer dreams, did you?

Willow shook her head. "I didn't dream at all. Did you?"

"Wasn't really in a position to dream." He nodded to the plastic chair that had served as his bed.

"Buffy, did you? Oh, God, I didn't even ask, are you okay? How did the spell go? I mean, I know I was there, sorta. But then everything went all blurry and… did everything go okay?"

Buffy smiled. "Yeah, Will, everything went like clockwork. Until afterwards, I mean. The spell worked. The Turok-han's dust."

"You think we've seen the last of them?" Xander mused.

"Where's Giles?" Willow asked abruptly.

Xander looked away. Willow could see the muscle twitching along his jaw.

"He just went to grab some coffee, Will. He was here until about an hour ago. We told him we'd come and get him when you woke up," Buffy said.

"Is he mad at me?" Willow's voice broke.

"No, sweetie." Buffy squeezed her shoulder. "He's just worried. We all were."

"Yeah, Anya was worried too," Xander added. "But the worrying made her exhausted, so she had to go home to sleep the worry off. She'll stop by later."

"He should be mad at me," Willow muttered, picking at the blanket. "I was an idiot."

"Will, I don't think that's—

She broke off when Willow look up at her, tears flowing down her cheeks.

"Oh Willow." She scooted closer and encircled her in her arms. "It's gonna be okay."

"Mphput," Willow cried into her shoulder.

"What was that?"

"I was so stupid," she said again. She continued, but the coherence was obscured by her own tears and the fabric of Buffy's tee shirt. She heard Buffy mumble something and felt the bed springs shift as Xander left. She couldn't stop crying though. If she were lucky she'd cry until she collapsed of exhaustion. Anything so she wouldn't have to think anymore.

* * *

Giles's shoulders went rigid and his back straightened as Xander walked into the cafeteria. He hadn't realized how much the boy's approval meant to him until he didn't have it anymore.

"Let's go, G-man," Xander greeted him. "Will's awake."

"Did she ask for me?" Giles asked, resolutely staring at his coffee.

"What is your problem?" Xander exploded. "Are you just determined not to be a part of your kid's life?"

Giles set his jaw. "How Willow and I choose to handle this is not your business Xander."

"Well, I'd agree with you, if I thought that you had chosen to handle anything. But as far as I can tell, you've just sat back and watched while she's had to take the reins by herself."

He didn't reply.

"She didn't ask for you," Xander said. "But she needs you. Sounds like you need to learn the difference."

Giles didn't look up until Xander's footsteps had retreated.

* * *

He knocked softly on the open door to the recovery room. Buffy was holding a clearly distraught Willow and murmuring words of comfort as Willow sobbed and babbled incoherently. Buffy turned at the sound of his approach.

"Hey, hold on a sec," she mouthed.

He nodded.

"Hey, Willow," Buffy said softly. "Giles is here."

Willow sat up and brushed her wet cheeks with her shirt sleeve.

"I'm gonna step out for a sec so you can have some time to talk."

Willow nodded, "Okay."

Buffy brushed her hand over Giles's shoulder as she left. He sat down at the foot of the bed.

"How are you feeling?"

Willowed looked down at her hands and nodded. "Okay."

"I'm sure Buffy and Xander already told you, but your doctor said you are going to be fine. They would have released you last night, but they wanted to keep an eye on you just in case. And we all thought…"

He broke off when he realized that she wasn't listening to him. She was sniffing and swallowing, trying to stem the flow of tears. He reached out tentatively and placed his hand over her own.

"What's wrong, Willow?"

When she finally composed herself enough to look up at him, she looked so sad, so completely miserable, his heart twisted in his chest.

"Can you ever forgive me, Giles?"

He reached for her and she collapsed into his arms.

"There's nothing to forgive," he whispered into her hair. "I know why you did what you did. You were trying to protect Buffy and all of us."

"I told myself that was the reason," she said in a strained voice. "But I don't think it was. I think I was trying to get back some sense of control. I've felt so confused, so lost, since I found out about the baby. And I was just trying to reassert some order in my life. And I almost—almost…

Her words were lost in gut-wrenching sobs.

All he could do was hold her and try to force down the lump that was forming in his throat. This was as much his fault as it was hers. If he had been more present, if he hadn't been so afraid, then maybe she wouldn't have felt so alone and out of control.

"I never meant to hurt her," Willow managed when her tears had subsided.

"I know you didn't, Willow," Giles said, stroking her back.

"How am I supposed to be anybody's mom, Giles? I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I feel like I've already failed."

"I don't know. I don't think either of us know what it is we're supposed to be doing."

Willow choked out a chuckle.

"But it seems to me, that like anything in life, if you make a mistake, or if you think that you've made a mistake, you learn from it. You become a better person, so you won't make the same mistake again."

She sighed.

"Besides," he continued. "You have another seven months to make mistakes before the baby even gets here. Think of how much better a person you'll be by then. For the record, though, I think you're doing a fine job so far."

"Recent decisions excepted," she amended.

"No, I don't think so. I know you didn't go into this lightly, Willow, whatever your motives. Because of your perseverance and skill, a serious evil was stopped. But I was referring to before the spell. You've had to take on a lot of responsibility by yourself. And you've done so admirably. I'm sorry I haven't been there for you. I do want to be there for you, Willow. And the—the baby."

Willow smiled and leaned forward on to his shoulder.

"You're here now."

"Yes." He paused thoughtfully. "Is there anything more I can do right now?"

"Yeah." She pushed up and faced him. "I want to go home."

"I'll get the discharge papers."

He squeezed her arm and left the room.

Willow sighed again and turned toward the window. She felt like she could sleep for twenty-four hours straight.

* * *

"Did you get Willow settled in?"

"Yeah," Buffy confirmed. "She fell right back asleep. Didn't talk much on the car ride home. I think she's still feeling a little guilty."

"Guilt can be a terrible burden. And no one carries it like Willow."

Buffy nibbled on a shortbread cookie. "You talking about last summer?"

Giles cast a wary eye at her. "Yes."

"She doesn't talk about it much. Or at all, really."

"I don't doubt it," he said. "It was a dark time for her. And I was there as a constant reminder of what she'd done."

"She tried to kill herself, didn't she?" Buffy asked quietly.

"Why do you ask?"

"I saw the marks on her arm," she explained. "I think she was trying to hide them. She's worn long sleeves a lot. You don't try to hide something like that unless you have something to hide."

Giles took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

"If she hasn't said anything to you personally, then I'm not going to betray her confidence. But I will say that she spent the first month of her stay in England very depressed and disoriented. For awhile, I didn't think that she'd come back from it. But she's better now. I would have never let her come back if I thought she would… harm herself. Or anyone else."

"I know."

He took a sip of his tea and returned the cup to the tray.

"I think she still carries a lot of it with her though. Which is, I suspect, some of the reason she has taken this latest… incident so badly."

"I just don't understand why she's so upset. I mean, we won."

"She was lucky and she knows it," Giles said. "She put herself and her child in danger and they both could have died."

"You are mad at her, aren't you?"

"No," he said too quickly. "I'm… frustrated. Not at her. At…"

"Yourself?"

He didn't look at her.

"Well, if you want my opinion, and I assume you do, since you are talking to me, I think that Willow's going to be fine. I know that she's got a lot to feel guilty about, but I think a lot of it in this case was shock and lack of sleep. I really do think she'll be okay once she's had time to get some perspective."

Giles stared ahead and nodded.

"Not that I mean to change the subject or anything, but I think we should focus on the debrief."

"What?"

"The Turok-han. Ubervamp. Big Bad of the moment. What are the chances we've heard the last of them?"

"Oh yes." He put his glasses back on and blinked. "Well, that's the thing. My resources are sketchy at best, but they always seem to, um, indicate that these particular demons travel in packs."

"Packs?"

"Yes, or uh… yes. Well, they don't appear often, as I have mentioned, but when they do, it's usually never just the one."

"What do you think it means that we only dealt with this one?"

"Well, it could mean…" he trailed off. "Sorry, um, it could mean that this is a rare occasion or… um…"

"Ok, stop."

"What?"

"You're not here," Buffy told him. "Not really."

"I'm sorry, Buffy." He rubbed his eyes again. "I didn't sleep well, or at all, last night."

"Well, that's definitely not helping."

"What?"

"Look, Giles, I know you're not the type that's gonna lie back on the couch and let a professional shrink you, but you clearly need to talk, and I'm here, so before we go any further, you might as well spill."

"Buffy…"

"Just think of me as a therapist, only instead of being objective and charging you, I'm going to have opinions and then give advice that you might actually use."

He looked at her blankly and she stared right back with a neutral smile.

"You might as well give up now. I was the staring-contest champion at my middle school two years running."

"Fine," he sighed and looked studiously at the floor. "It's Willow."

"Really?" She asked, voice laced with playful sarcasm.

"I can't do this." He threw his hands up and jumped off the sofa.

"Giles," she said, reaching out to him. "I'm sorry. What I meant was, 'Yes, it's obviously having to do with Willow.' I'd venture a further guess and say that specifically it has to do with Willow being pregnant with the child neither of you planned for. But then the ball's in your court."

He sighed and sat down again.

"I don't know what I'm doing."

"It doesn't have to sound pretty. Just talk."

"No, I mean, I don't know what I'm doing in regards to Willow."

"Oh." Buffy nodded.

"Yes." He looked at her cautiously. "Because despite certain, observations, that have come to light recently, I am not either your, Willow's or Xander's father. I have no idea how to raise an infant or a… pre-infant. And quite frankly, I'm forty-six and I really didn't even think it was an option anymore."

"Giles," Buffy put a hand on his shoulder. "You'd make an awesome dad. You may not be my actual father but God knows you've played the part often enough and done it well."

"Much better than my real father, actually," she added.

"Well, thank you, Buffy, that's, well, that's really very sweet," he mumbled.

"But the thing of it is," he continued vehemently. "I met you when you were sixteen. Someone else had already done the hard part of raising you."

"Giles, you're not an unconfident guy," Buffy said. "You may do the whole Hugh-Grant-charmingly-befuddled thing to excess, but I know that you have personal conviction. All you have to do is see you hold your own in a fight to know that much. I think you may be reasonably nervous, but I don't think you have any real hang-ups about being a dad. So what else is bothering you?"

He ran a hand through his hair and opened his mouth a few times, but nothing came out. Buffy fixed him with a searching glare.

"I… don't know how to be Willow's… partner in all of this," he finally confessed.

"Well, I'm not sure where Willow's current stance on her sexuality is right now, but I don't really think she's looking for a lover, just a parent."

Giles cut his eyes at her. "I know that. Although that's another- no."

He stopped himself at a raised eyebrow from Buffy.

"What I mean is, I have always been Willow's teacher, or mentor, or guide. I have been her friend, but I've been her… superior? It's not the right word, really, but…"

"You've been the instructor. You've gone before her and shown her the way."

"Yes." He nodded. "But now I don't have any advice. I'm as lost as she is. Probably more so. And I don't know how to be her… peer."

"Well Giles, if there is anyone in the world I know that could match you in intelligence, it would be Willow. And she's an adult now. Yes, you'll always have more worldly experience than her, but she's catching up to you. Your relationship from teacher and teachee was bound to have to readjust eventually. You, unfortunately, just have to deal with it all at once."

"I just wish this hadn't been… forced on her."

"Well I don't think she feels that way."

"How could she not?"

"What, you think this whole positive attitude of hers has been an act to make you feel better? Or hormones? Or denial?"

His lack of response served as a confirmation.

"Have you ever heard Willow sing? I mean, besides the whole dancing demon incident?"

He shook his head.

"Well neither had I. And between you and me, there's probably good reason for that. But as of a month ago, every time she's alone, she sings to herself."

"She does?"

Buffy nodded. "You know, she's already cleared out the junk room upstairs to use for the baby's room. And I've caught her so many times, just staring off into space, smiling to herself, like, like, she's got this big secret."

"Really?" He asked, just above a whisper.

"Really," Buffy confirmed. "So I wouldn't worry about saddling her with some burden she doesn't want. She doesn't see it that way."

"Huh," he stated.

"And as far as not knowing how to be Willow's peer? Just ask her what she needs you to do. Ask for specifics. In conversation form."

He sighed with resignation.

Buffy jumped up from the sofa.

"Where are you going? We still need to talk about the Turok-han."

"It'll keep," Buffy said. "You look like you're about to fall over."

He smiled tiredly and nodded.

"Okay, well, tomorrow then?"

"Sleep well, Giles!"

"Okay, and Buffy…?"

She turned at the doorway and smiled, "You're welcome."

* * *

He had been pacing for twenty minutes when he heard her knock at the door. He let out a breath slowly.

"Keep it together, Giles," he coached himself. "Be a bloody adult."

He opened the door and found himself having to swallow before he could speak.

"Hello, Willow."

"Hey, Giles." She walked around him into the house. "Buffy said you wanted to see me?"

He tried to focus on her face, but it was difficult. She was wearing a dark red tank top that hugged every curve. The pink scars that ran down the inside of each forearm stood out in stark contrast to her pale skin.

He cleared his throat. "You look, um…"

Willow smiled, probably as much as his discomfort as anything else.

"Pregnant. I know."

She rested one hand on her first trimester bump.

"Yeah, I've been wearing baggy clothes at school just to avoid questions for as long as I can," she explained. "But, there's no point right now. Might as well be comfortable."

"Ah." He nodded. "Well, please, sit down. Can I get you anything to eat or drink?"

"I'm good," she said, taking a seat. "Unless… oh! You don't have any baloney, do you? The really cheap, Oscar Meyer kind?"

"Fresh out, I'm afraid." He sat down next to her.

"I knew it was a long shot." Her look of disappointment was almost comical.

"Appetite's back, then?"

"With a vengeance," she agreed. "But I'm fine right now. What did you want to talk about?"

Sitting with his elbows on his knees, he interlaced his fingers contemplatively and looked up at her.

"Willow, I haven't been a very good friend to you lately."

She opened her mouth and he held up a hand.

"Just, hear me out. I've been going through this in my head and it'll work best if I can just say it all at once."

Willow raised an eyebrow, but let him continue.

"I haven't been a friend to you or a—a father to your baby. Because I really don't know how. I suppose that's rather obvious. I know that I haven't made it particularly easy for you, but I want you to come to me when you need help with… anything. Unless you really don't want my help. And I understand that too. But I know it can't be easy, trying to be a single parent at your age, with what all you have been through lately. I want you to know that I'm not trying to avoid you. I don't… Just, please, tell me what I can do."

Willow blushed furiously and her eyes shined with unshed tears.

"Oh, Willow, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you on the spot. I just didn't…"

"No!" She interrupted finally. "It's fine! I'm just so glad that you said something! I _have_ wanted your help, Giles. But I didn't know how to ask."

He put a hand on her knee.

"Just ask. Tell me what I can do."

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and gave him a little chuckle.

"Okay, well, for starters, you can… you can stop watching me out of the corner of your eye like I'm going to explode, or worse, give birth, any minute. I promise I'll give you a fair warning, okay?"

He ducked his head, but he had to laugh at that.

"Seriously," she said with a smile. "I'm still Willow. I'm not going to fly off the handle and do something crazy and hormonal. Well, anything too crazy, at least. You can still talk to me like you used to, you know."

"I know."

"The thing about this whole thing that makes me sad is, we used to be so close. Over last summer, I thought we could… confide in each other, talk about anything. And now we're so nervous and uncomfortable around each other. Everything we say has this subtext about it."

"I know," he repeated.

"I miss you."

He put his arm over her shoulders and kissed her forehead.

"I've missed you, too."

She rested her head against his shoulder and he leaned back on her. She was so small, but somehow, she made him feel safe. And he realized how true his words were. He had been so anxious around her, he had forgotten how much he missed her. She was the only person he could touch and be completely at ease with, even in total silence.

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

"I don't have any plans," he replied.

"Do you want to come with me to pick out paint for the baby's room at Buffy's house?"

He smiled. She had been living with Buffy for over two years and still called it 'Buffy's house.'

"That would be fine," he answered. "Do you want to- You know I have the spare bedroom next to mine on the landing. We could paint that one too, if you'd like."

Willow sat up and beamed. "You mean it?"

He nodded.

"That'd be great! And um… I have a doctor's appointment? At the end of the month. If you want, you can come to that too? I mean, I know it's going to include some kinda icky stuff, but if you want…"

"The way I understand it, the whole having-a-baby process is full of rather 'icky stuff,'" he said reasonably. "It's fine, Willow. I'll come. Just let me know when it is."

"Thanks!"

"You're welcome. Is there anything else I can do? In the immediate future, I mean?"

Willow looked to the side and blushed a little. She reached for her purse and started rummaging around.

"Well, you could do the whole cheesy-first-time-parent-thing and 'ooohhh' and 'aaahhh' over these." She pulled out a packet of papers and handed them to him.

Ultra-sound photos.

"They were taken when I was at the hospital," she explained. "I don't even remember it; I must have been sedated."

"Oh." For awhile, that was the only thing he said, as he examined each photo carefully.

"They aren't great quality," she said. "I guess it's not a surprise. She still really tiny."

"You know," he said slowly. "I never really understood what people saw in these fuzzy, black and white photos. But when it's…"

"Yours," Willow said.

He glanced up at her.

"Yes. They really are quite… beautiful."

Willow grinned. "I think so too."


	5. Crises Unaverted

Willow was humming with energy and she bounced with every step as she made her way down the path to Giles's door. The cynical part of her brain chided her, telling her that her bubbly-ness would probably overwhelm poor, reserved, English Giles. But the giddiness won out. What was the point in being a mom-to-be if you couldn't take advantage of the moody upswings?

His name was on her lips as she opened the front door. "Hey Giles! I've got something to te—woah…"

Her giddiness evaporated.

Four wide pairs of eyes looked up at her, accompanied by matching expressions in varying degrees of guilt.

"Hey Will!" Xander offered.

Willow's face crumpled. "Ya'll were having a Scooby meeting without me?"

"It's not like that, Will." Buffy jumped to her feet and put her hands on her friend's shoulders, attempting to guide her to a chair.

But Willow was having none of it.

"You don't trust me!" She accused. "You think if you tell me anything I'll get too upset and do some stupid spell and get myself blown up!"

The tears that had started leaking the moment she came in the door were now a river, accompanied by heaving sobs.

"Willow, that's not the case at all." Giles joined Buffy at Willow's side, trying to console her.

"Actually, it kind of is," Willow heard Anya mutter.

The sobs grew in volume.

Through her tears, she caught snatches of whispers. Words like "hormonal," and "moody."

"Oh, I'll go," Willow decided. "I'm freaking everyone out."

"No, you're not, Willow," Buffy assured her.

It was Anya that changed her mind.

"Hey, crazy girl," she called at Willow's retreating form. "Stick around. We're going to need your help with this. No one wanted to upset you. But seeing as the damage has already been done, we could really use your witchy expertise."

Willow sniffled and shuffled over to Anya's end of the couch. She leaned her head on Anya's shoulder and Anya pet her curly mop uncertainly.

"I'm sorry," Willow muttered. "That was probably a little more than you guys deserved."

"It's fine's" were mumbled by everyone.

Willow caught a glimpse at Giles and smiled apologetically. He smiled back, but Willow thought she'd never seen his eyes go quite that round before. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry all over again. In the end, she managed to take a deep breath and did neither.

"So, who wants to bring me up to speed?" She asked.

The four glanced at each other before Buffy decided to take the initiative.

"It's the ubervamps, Will," she explained. "They're back."

"They, plural?" Willow repeated. "Where? Here? Are they attacking anyone?"

"At this point, no," Giles joined in. "But Buffy has spotted a couple on her nightly patrols."

"What are they doing?"

"Hard to say," Buffy pondered. "Same as before, it looks like. Doing recon? They haven't attacked anyone yet."

"Yes," Giles added. "But unfortunately, the two that Buffy has seen have not been the only sightings. The Watcher's Council has informed me of reports from the Hellmouth in Cleveland—

"There's a Hellmouth in Cleveland?" Xander interjected. "I thought we were special."

"Well, it doesn't seem to be nearly as… active as our side of the inferno does, but, yes. There have been other reports in Tanzania, Sri Lanka and Greece."

"That doesn't sound good," Willow stated the obvious. "What does it mean, Giles?"

"Well, we've conducted a good deal of research," he paused, noting Willow's sulky look, but continued. "And we have found a few vague references, that while they do not mention the Turok-han by name, they do describe a group of demons that match their description. From these sources, we've been able to conclude that there must be a huge army of these 'ubervamps' dwelling under the surface. Every few centuries or so, they make a break and try to conquer the world."

"And they fail every time?" Willow asked skeptically.

"Well, the Slayer always drives them back," Buffy explained.

"Eventually," Giles agreed. "Yes, but there are some instances in which they have succeeded, if only for a short while. Entire civilizations have been massacred by the appearance of so-called 'enemies of the night.' The Anasazi Indians-

"Native Americans," Willow, Xander and Buffy corrected him.

Giles pursed his lips and continued. "—of the Southwest were completely overwhelmed by them, as were the Aztecs, and possibly the predecessors to the Ibo people of West Africa."

"The Lost Colony of Roanoke?" Xander asked. "Was that them too?"

"No," Anya answered. "That was a Windago spirit, summoned by the 'Native Americans' to repay the settlers for the havoc they had brought to their tribe. I thought everyone knew that…"

Giles nodded, matter-of-factly.

Willow was removed from the conversation. She stared at a point just beyond Giles's left ear thoughtfully.

"Does anyone know when these guys were last heard of?" She finally asked.

"From what we've been able to piece together, it sounds like they were last spotted in the American Southeast, near Meridian? Meridian, I think that's right. It's in… Mississippi. It was about 160 years ago."

"160 years ago," Willow repeated. "During the Civil War… in the South."

"Good Lord," Giles stated. "I must be blind."

"You want to clue the rest of us in?" Xander's voice carried a sarcastic edge.

" 'Enemies of the night,'" Willow continued. "_Inimicum de nocte_."

"Wait, I know that," Buffy realized. "It's part of the spell that you…I… we did!"

"Do you think it was formulated specifically for the Turok-han?" Giles wandered aloud.

Willow shrugged, "What does that mean?"

"Actually," Anya said. "It would explain a lot."

All eyes went to her.

"We've been looking through these books for weeks—" she was interrupted by Willow's annoyed grunt. "Oh, get over it, we were doing it to protect you! In several of these accounts, the Turok-han are spotted during the day. Look! This woodcut clearly shows this thing under sunlight."

"I've only seen them at night," Buffy contradicted.

"Well, they live underground," Anya said, exasperatedly. "They probably don't _like_ the light. But it doesn't hurt them."

"And my UV spell did," Willow said.

"What if it's not UV light?" Buffy asked. "Maybe it's something else, something more powerful, designed specifically to work on these ubervamps. We might have the weapon we were looking for all along."

"Maybe," Willow said, her voice heavy with doubt. "But this spell… it takes so much energy. And it produces just enough light to kill a couple of vampires."

"Is there any way to amplify it?"

Willow looked at Giles thoughtfully.

"If we return to the source… if we were able to figure out who worked the spell originally and under what conditions, that knowledge alone would add to the power of the spell. Then maybe we could deconstruct it."

"Magical reverse-engineering," Xander said. "I like it."

"You said the Slayer was always the one to drive the Turok-han back," Willow said to Giles. "Do we know who the Slayer was during that time?"

"Wait, Slayers do magic?"Xander asked. "Buffster, looks like you've fallen short…"

He was rewarded by a predictable glare from Buffy.

"Well, they do, occasionally," Giles explained. "But usually only under heavy supervision from their Watchers."

"What do the Watcher diaries say about this?" Anya asked.

"Well, I don't know off of the top of my head." Giles rubbed his left temple. "I don't have all of the diaries here in my possession. I'd have to contact the Council—

"Absolutely not," Buffy interrupted.

"Buffy, if there were any other way…"

"There's got to be another way," Buffy stated. "The last time we contacted those guys, they flew all the way over here to make our lives a living hell. Giles, they threatened to deport you and close down the Magic Box!"

"Not much chance of that happening now," Anya muttered.

"But you handed their asses to them, Buffy," Xander added. "Well, verbally handed their asses to them. And you got Giles's job back, so I'd say you came out on top."

"Find another way." Buffy crossed her arms and locked eyes with her Watcher. "Please."

"Okay, Buffy," he relented. "I'll check the other diaries with earlier occurrences of Turok-han invasions and see if the spell was used to effect in any of those cases."

"Thank you," Buffy said softly.

"It's alright."

"So, are we done?"Anya asked eagerly.

"I think we've done all we can for right now," Giles agreed. "I'll let you all know if I find anything of use."

Xander and Anya picked up their bags and headed out the door with Buffy trailing after them.

"See you at home, Will?"

Willow nodded, not having moved from her place on the sofa. She waited until the door had closed behind Buffy before turning to Giles.

"You see how much time you could have saved by just letting me help to begin with?"

He ducked his head slightly, but his embarrassment didn't prevent him from adding, "Yes, my contrition is overwhelming. What could I have been thinking, trying to keep you out of harm's way?"

He plopped down next to her and she elbowed him lightly in the side.

"I forgive you."

He smiled.

"So, what was it that you came bursting in here to tell me?"

Willow could feel heat rising to her face.

"Oh, it's nothing," she demurred. "It seems silly now."

"Go on," he nudged her. "If it was important then, it's important now."

Willow sat up straighter, seemed to hesitate, and then tentatively reached for his right hand. Keeping her palm on the back of his hand, she placed it on her belly.

He blushed visibly, but didn't make any attempt to move.

"What-

"Shhhh…" She held up a hand. "Wait a minute."

"There! You feel that?"

He shook his head slightly, concentrating.

"Oh," he whispered finally.

"Yeah," Willow agreed. "I felt her for the first time this morning. It's kinda neat, huh?"

He nodded, slowly returning his hand to his lap.

"Isn't that, uh, well, I mean, isn't it… distracting?" He asked.

Willow laughed at his bewilderment.

"Well, it doesn't hurt, if that's what you mean," she assured him. "But I imagine it's going to make sleeping more difficult soon."

He observed her with an air of someone who is encountering a new species.

"What?" She chided him playfully.

He shook his head.

"You're just… you're an incredible person , Willow. You never cease to amaze me."

Willow beamed.

* * *

She woke up in his arms. He was holding her tightly, one arm looped just under her breasts and the other cradling her head. Blinking away the last remnants of sleep, she turned around and looked at him. If he had felt her stir, he didn't show it. His eyes were still closed and a small smile painted his features.

She wanted him to wake up.

She pressed firmly against him, closing the slight gap between their hips. She felt him become aroused at the contact and grinned in satisfaction.

His eyes flew open.

"Good morning," he greeted her.

She replied by covering his mouth with hers. When he didn't respond, she pulled back and scowled.

"You know I don't do this for just anyone." His voice was thick with mock-disapproval.

She grinned and pulled herself closer. "I'm glad I made the cut, then."

This time, he returned her kisses, slowly and deliberately. He rolled her over and kissed her from her lips to her neckline. When his hand slipped beneath her nightdress, she groaned and buried her face in his hair. He smelled like clean laundry and something else… leather, maybe? Old parchment?

When he entered her, it was just like the first time, painful and perfect. She cried out and he held her close.

"I always hurt you," he said sadly.

She sifted her fingers through his hair as he thrust deeper into her.

"Just don't leave," she gasped.

"I don't want to."

She could feel her fingertips tingling. Her toes had gone numb.

"But you know I will."

Her muscles clenched and her head was thrown back with the force of her orgasm.

"Giles!"

Willow woke up, panting. She was wrapped in tangled sheets and saturated in sweat. As her breath slowed and the entirety of the dream came back to her, she brought the comforter up to her chin.

"Fuck," she groaned.

* * *

"So, he was wearing this red shirt that you could practically see through and that leather jacket, which I always used to find sexy, and yes, I know how sick that is, considering he stripped it off a dead Slayer, but if I didn't know better, I'd say he was goading me into, you know, slipping…"

"Uh-huh…"

"But, of course, I didn't, because of the spell, but I think he's starting to suspect something…"

Willow took another bite of her cereal.

"Well, that's not good."

"So, of course, I did the only thing I could: I threw down right there in the graveyard. Gave it to him good right on top of the grave of 'Paula Schultz.'"

"Well, that's… wait, what?"

"You're not listening."

"I'm… sorry, Buffy." Her spoon clanged as it fell back into the bowl. "I haven't… been sleeping too well."

"Is it the baby?"

Willow looked up. "No. I mean, partly, yeah… If I tell you something, will you promise not to read into it?"

"Nope," Buffy said honestly. "But I won't judge you. And I can be a pretty good listener."

Willow sighed. "I guess that's fair enough. I've been having… feelings about Giles."

Buffy nodded, showing no visible surprise. She didn't say anything, giving Willow room to continue.

"That's it." Willow took another bite of her cereal.

"Like hell!" Buffy exclaimed. "You can't just make a statement like that and just leave it!"

"I just… it feels really wrong," Willow amended. "It's making me sick. Of course, everything kinda makes me sick these days."

"What feels wrong about it?"

"Well, you know, he's Giles!" Willow exclaimed. "He's like a… I don't know… adult. He's always been an adult. And I'm just starting to be an adult. I don't have enough practice."

Buffy raised her eyebrows and looked very much like she was trying hard not to smile.

"And plus, I'm gay! Or at least, I thought I was. And it seems disrespectful to Tara to even think about… liking anyone who's not her. Or at least liking… not a woman. And I miss her so much, Buffy! Sometimes I pretend that she's still here. That she's the one who is helping me with all this baby stuff. I think about us being a family and it makes me so happy! But then, that seems disrespectful to Giles… I mean, it's his kid. And then what if it's just stupid baby hormones that are making me feel this way in the first place?

" And I keep asking myself, why him? Why did I go to his house when the spell backfired? I mean, you were right there! Anya was… okay, well I can understand why I didn't go for Anya…"

"Ok." Buffy put her arm across Willow's shoulders. "Breathe for a sec."

Willow leaned into Buffy's embrace.

"Don't you think the reason might have something to do with the fact that you trust him?"

"I trust you!"

"I know, but… look I don't know what went on in England and I don't need to. But I do know that it could not have been fun. When you left, you were a basket-case. When you came back three months later, you were nearly as good as new. I have a feeling he might have had something to do with that. If you trust him more than the rest of us, I can see why."

Willow was silent for a moment, stewing in her own thoughts.

"It probably is just hormones," she said darkly. "I don't even know why I brought it up. It'll probably go away in another month or so."

Buffy leaned away and looked at her.

"Well, I haven't had any experience with the crazy hormones, so I can't speak to that," she said. "And I don't really have a whole lot of room to speak on the whole sexual orientation front, but speaking as someone who has made a career out of having unconventional relationships, I know that there's no point in trying to put yourself in a box. Especially at our age. We're doing a lot of changing. I think it's okay to change our minds about who we love."

"Tara was afraid I was going to leave her. She thought it was just a phase I was going through."

"Well, I don't believe that," Buffy contradicted. "I know you loved Tara very much. But I also know you loved Oz. And you loved Xander ever since you were a little kid. I don't think you should try to confine yourself to one sexuality, Will."

"Sounds wishy-washy."

"It is what it is," Buffy said.

"So what should I do?"

"I don't know," she said frankly. "But do you have to know right now? Can you just wait and see how things develop?"

"I guess," Willow said. "How do you feel about this whole thing, Buffy? I mean, Giles is your Watcher."

Buffy gave her a small smile. "Well, I guess he always will be. He's never been a… romantic figure for me. I was always an obligation for him."

"I don't think he saw it that way."

"What I mean is, he was assigned to me," Buffy explained. "And no, I don't think he sees me as some chore. But he never had a choice when it came to me. I was part of the package. But you… the two of you _chose_ to be involved with one another, ever since the beginning. And I think that because of that, you've always had a different relationship than he and I."

She shrugged. "And that's okay. I just know that wherever you find love, it's never wrong."

"This coming from the person who had me perform an anti-lust spell because she was afraid she would do something she regretted with the person that she's in love with," Willow answered sardonically.

Buffy opened her mouth but didn't have the chance to reply. Xander banged open the kitchen door, announcing his presence with the usual cacophony.

"Hey guys, what's happening?"

He pulled up a bar stool and helped himself to a bowl of cereal.

"Please, Xander, don't hesitate, get yourself something to eat," Buffy sniped.

"What?" He asked around a mouthful of wheat pops. "Sorry, I didn't get to eat at home."

"What's wrong, Anya not taking care of you? She has all that free time."

Xander grimaced and swallowed. "Not anymore. She found a job."

"Oh, good for her!" Willow enthused.

"Yeah," Xander said to his bowl of cereal.

"Okay, not good for her?" Willow tried again. "What is she doing?"

Xander cleared his throat, "You remember that conversation we had a long time ago about that thing I did that I would _never_ talk about to get my car fixed that summer?"

"Yeah…" Buffy said slowly.

"Well, it's like that. But worse."

"Was I there for that conversation?" Willow asked.

"She's a phone sex operator!" Xander exploded.

Buffy licked her lips, desperate to stifle her laughter. Willow snorted into her bowl of cereal.

"Oh, yeah, it's hilarious," Xander quipped. "Now my girlfriend cheats on me professionally and she doesn't even have to leave home to do it!"

"Oh, does she have that at-home call center set up?" Willow asked. "I heard a lot of companies were doing that to save… I guess that' s really not the point."

"Xander, come on," Buffy tried to placate him. "It's not really cheating. No one takes those things seriously."

"It's twisted is what it is," Xander spat. "Now she's too exhausted from her daily… exertions to have any time for yours truly."

"Okay, that's not right," Willow said.

"I don't want to talk about it," Xander sighed. "I was just going to steal some breakfast and then walk you ladies to campus. That is… if you're still going."

"Planning on it," Buffy said. "Why?"

"Willow, don't take this the wrong way, but you look like you could maybe use a day off."

Willow sighed, "I'm fine… just haven't been… sleeping too well."

"Is it the baby?"

"Yeah, mostly," Willow flushed, but if Xander noticed, he didn't make any comment.

"Do you need to go to the doctor?"

"I don't know," Willow said. "There's really nothing that he can do. Besides, I have an appointment in two weeks. I'll mention it to him then."

"You gonna need a lift?"

"No, thanks. Giles is going to take me."

"Ah, look at that," Xander picked at his cereal. "The man finally gets involved."

"Hey!" Willow snapped. "Stop it! You know I hate it when you do that. And yes, he has been more involved recently, so just… let it go."

"Okay, okay." Xander put his hands up, relenting. "Sorry. You know I'm just looking out for you."

"I know," Willow grumbled.

"So," Buffy scrapped her chair back noisily, the attempt to break the tension obvious. "School?"

* * *

It was the time of night when his eyes were itchy and the tension in his neck was starting to become distracting, but he didn't want to go to bed. He knew that whatever he would find tonight, he could discover just as easily tomorrow morning, but that logic didn't dissuade him. If he went to sleep now, he would lose his train of thought. What if he forgot something and had to start all the way over? People were counting on him.

The Middle English on the page was starting to make less and less sense. Sometimes he wished the Watchers had been compelled to write in Latin like everyone else of import was doing in the 15th century. At least Latin was less… fluid. What did—

A tap at his front door derailed his carefully maintained train of thought. He glanced at his watch. It was nearly three in the morning. He had to have imagined the knocking.

He was about to return to the diary of Samuel Gower III, when the tapping came again. He took off his glasses and stumbled to the door. His legs had nearly fallen asleep.

"Willow?"

"Hi!" She said timidly. She was rocking on the balls of her feet and shivering a little from the late November chill. "Can I come in?"

"Of—of course." He stood aside to let her pass through.

"I know it's late," Willow began, rubbing her arms. "I wouldn't have bothered you, only I saw your light on."

Giles rubbed his eyes, "Willow, what are you doing up this late? You should be asleep."

"I know!" Her face crumpled.

He kicked himself mentally. What had he said now?

"I can't sleep!" She explained. "I haven't slept more than a few hours every night since the baby started moving! She sleeps all day and then keeps me awake all night!"

"Oh," he said. He embraced her gently. "I'm sorry."

Willow sniffled. "Oh, it's okay. I'll get used to it eventually. But I'm sucking in school! I can't concentrate on anything… I feel useless."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Willow looked over at his desk.

"What are you working on?"

"Hmm?" He turned around. "Oh, um, more Turok-han research, I'm afraid. There does seem to be a precursor of the spell dating from the 17th century to a Watcher based in Orvieto, which is near an old holding of the Papal State. That could account for the Latin… I really need those Civil War Era diaries to confirm though. I think I might contact Wesley in LA—

"There is something you can do."

"What?"

"Sorry, Giles, my attention-span is about three seconds long right now."

"It's alright." He smiled patiently. "What do you want me to do?"

She bit her lip and squirmed a bit.

"Come on, Willow, out with it, we're neither of us getting any younger."

"Well, when I drive? Or am in a car? The vibration seems to put her to sleep. And I was thinking that if you just maybe drove me around for a little bit? Maybe the baby would go to sleep and then you could just kinda drop me off at Buffy's."

Giles chuckled. "That would be fine."

"Really?"

"Of course."

Willow sighed, "Thank you."

Giles's forehead crinkled in amusement.

"What did you think I was going to say?"

"I don't know," she replied. "It's kind of a weird request, showing up in the middle of the night…"

He reached for his car keys.

"Living in Sunnydale, I've had my share of weird requests. This doesn't even make the list."

He placed his hand on her lower back and guided her through the doorway.

"You know," he said as he locked up. "You really don't have to hesitate to ask me anything."

Willow looked down at her slippered feet.

"I know, it just takes some getting used to."

"I shouldn't wonder."

They had been driving around for half an hour, and while Willow's eyes were closed, she was still fidgeting.

"Willow?" He tried softly.

She moaned, but didn't open her eyes.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, "Willow?"

"Huh?" She jerked awake.

"You were twitching."

"Mmm," she agreed vaguely.

"Is it not working?"

She rubbed her swollen belly.

"No, she stopped kicking me. I think she's asleep. I just can't find a comfortable position. I think all the blood's gone to my feet. I'm sorry, Giles, this was a stupid idea. You can just drop me off at home."

"No, hold on. Why don't you put your feet up on the dashboard?"

"It's your dashboard," she stated, as if that were reason enough.

"Don't worry about it."

She gave him a skeptical look, then took off her slippers and slid her feet onto the leather dash.

"Okay, but I assume your permission means I get a pass on toe-prints," she said. Her eyes were already closed. Ten minutes later, she was snoring.

* * *

Willow didn't know how long she had been asleep, but it was the sun warming her toes that woke her up.

"Woah!" She sat up straight. "What time is it?"

"A little after eight. Do you want a bacon, egg and cheese biscuit? I stopped by McDonald's. Buffy assures me that they're the closest thing you can get to heaven on earth. I guess she would know…"

"Wha-? Biscuit? Giles, where are we?"

He cleared his throat. "Well, you were sleeping. I drove back to my place, but I didn't want to disturb you. And then I thought, we could kill two birds with one stone."

"What? Giles—

"We're in LA."

Willow blinked and looked around her, trying to process the information.

"Wha-?" was as far as she got.

"I mentioned last night, I don't know if you recall, but I mentioned that I was going to see Wesley, to see if he could use his contacts at the Watcher's Council to hunt down the diaries? Well, I thought, since I was driving anyway, and it's a Saturday, so you don't have class, I could…"

Willow looked at him blankly.

"This was a bad idea."

Willow sighed. "Well, not really. I mean, it's the first solid five hours of sleep I have had in almost two weeks. Can't really complain on that front. But I look like… I just slept for five hours in a car!"

"You look lovely," Giles assured her. "And if it's Cordelia that you are worried about, she won't be in, not at eight in the morning on a weekend. I already called. Only Angel and Wesley are at the office."

She eyed him carefully.

"Okay. Hand me one of those biscuits so I can get my morning started."

She unwrapped the proffered breakfast sandwich, took a bite and closed her eyes.

"Yeah, Buffy was right."

Giles rang the intercom.

"Hey, Giles, come on up!"

Angel's voice sounded tiny through the metal speakers. The buzzer sounded and the door unlocked.

"Nice place," Giles remarked as they walked up the marble staircase.

"Yeah," Willow agreed. "I've been here once before. Not the happiest of occasions, really. Still, it's good to know that Angel is doing well for himself. Wesley too, I guess."

He caught the edge to her voice.

"Yes, I was never one of Wesley's biggest fans either. Certainly recommending that we leave you to the wolves when you were kidnapped by Faith didn't serve to endear him to me terribly. But I can put those feelings aside. We need his help. Besides, after working for Angel, I'm sure he's changed for the better."

The doors to Angel Investigations swung open as soon as they arrived on the landing.

Wesley smiled at both of them.

"Giles! Good to see you again!" He said, as he shook his fellow Watcher's hand.

"And Willow! What a surprise!" He took in her full appearance. "Don't you look… ravishing!"

"Or not," Giles muttered to Willow between clenched teeth.

Willow patted Giles on the back with an enthusiastic grin and walked by the two of them into the office where Angel was sitting at a desk, brooding as usual. His expression changed when he saw her, though.

"Willow!" He jumped up and crossed the reception hall to meet her. "Giles didn't say you were coming."

"Well, I wasn't really expecting to ," Willow stood on tiptoes to hug him.

He embraced her gently, then pulled back suddenly, realizing something was amiss.

"Hey, woah!" He looked down at her round middle. "Are you…"

"Yeah," she cut him off. "I'll explain later. Sorry if it's rude to ask but, do you have anything to eat around here? I had a biscuit in the car, but it doesn't really… you know… cut it these days."

"I guess not," he agreed. "Well, it is daylight, so anything outside of this building won't work for me. Do you mind going down to my place?"

Her face was the picture of relief.

"Not at all."

"Hey, Wesley?" Angel called. "Willow and I are going down to the basement to get a bite to eat."

"Alright Angel."

If Willow noticed Giles's face get a panicky twitch, she didn't acknowledge it.

"You guys have fun!" She called.

"Giles, I appreciate your faith in me, don't misunderstand. But I don't know what you think that I will be able to do. You know I have fallen out of favor with the Council. They don't look too highly on being under the employ of a vampire."

"I suspected as much." Giles closed the office door behind him. "But speaking as someone who has experience in such matters, even an ex-Watcher has contacts in the Council, people that can be relied upon."

"Yes, but you are no longer a member of our poor, ostracized brotherhood. You can call them as you please. So why the subterfuge?"

He sighed. "Buffy has requested that I not involve them. I want to honor her wishes."

"By contacting them through me?"

"Buffy's problem isn't with the Council's resources; it's with their persistent policy of interference in her life. Given their history with her, she can hardly be blamed. If I go through you, they needn't hear that she is the one that will benefit from their information."

"You always did keep her on a long leash," Wesley remarked.

Giles shot him a look that fell between a glare and a wince.

"But I can hardly be held up as a model Watcher myself, considering Faith," Wesley acquiesced. "Alright, there is someone I can contact. He has access to the archives, but he could take a moment to get back to us. And it's 8:30 here so it will be… half past four in the afternoon. I do hope it's not too late."

Wesley picked up the phone and started to dial.

"What's the name of the information that you need?"

Giles scrawled the years for the Watcher diaries on a notepad.

The conversation was short and cryptic. Wesley hung up a few minutes later, wearing a thoughtful expression.

"Well?"

"He'll get back to us, but it's going to be awhile before he can find the diaries, scan them and e-mail them to us. Do you want a coffee while we wait?"

"Coffee?" Giles asked, vaguely scandalized. "You have settled into the American way of life."

Wesley shrugged in agreement.

"Go on then," Giles accepted. "Might as well. I haven't slept all night."

"Yes," Wesley said slowly, his brow wrinkled. "You drove all through the night from Sunnydale with Willow Rosenburg. Surely there's a story to be told there?"

* * *

Angel opened the door to his basement apartment and let Willow walk ahead of him as he turned on the overhead lights.

"Nice place," Willow commented.

"Yeah, it's alright."

As Willow slid onto one of the barstools, Angel rummaged through his cabinets.

"I should have something around here that's not of a liquid consistency."

She looked a little ill at the comment.

"Oh, sorry, Willow," he said, wincing. "Vampire-food jokes probably not the best thing to say around a… well…"

"A pregnant chick," she filled in. "You can say it. And it's fine. Really, I am hungry. But mostly I just wanted to get out of there. No offence, Angel, but Wesley, he kinda gets under my skin."

"Yeah, I could see that," Angel acknowledged. "I've gotten used to him, mostly. Cereal okay?"

Willow nodded.

"So, I would beat around the bush," Angel drawled. "But it's not really my style. How did you come to be in a family way? I thought you were leaning towards the fairer sex these days, and unless I'm more behind the times than I led myself to believe…"

"Short version? Spell-backfired, I acted… out-of-character, Giles is the father."

"Giles?" Angel gasped.

"Hey… don't say it like that," Willow complained, picking at her generic flakes.

"Sorry," Angel backtracked. "It's just not what I expected to hear. But are you two… together?"

"No," she answered shortly.

"And that's not a good thing, is it?"

Willow looked up.

"What about you, Angel? Anyone special in your life… death… existence?"

"Oh, you know me, Willow," he shrugged.

Willow smiled sadly. She did.

"How is she?" He asked.

"Buffy's fine. Great actually. Well, except for the latest Big Bad. But we're working on it. And she has Spike to keep her company on her nightly patrols." Willow realized before she finished the sentence that she had made a mistake.

"Spike?" Angel gripped the counter. "Why hasn't she kicked that… why hasn't she kicked him out of Sunnydale?"

"Well," Willow stalled, taking a bite of the soggy flakes. "He's changed… He has a soul now."

"A soul?" He turned and faced the refrigerator. "Well that is just. Great."

"He's not you, Angel."

"But she loves him, doesn't she?" He looked back at her, eyes pleading.

"I think he has a place in her heart," Willow qualified. "Yes."

His head fell.

"I'm probably saying this all wrong," she tried. "You should really talk to Buffy about all this."

Angel's laugh was hollow and echoed off the concrete walls.

"Yeah, I probably should."

"Who is your contact?"

"Hmmm?" Wesley looked up over his coffee. "Oh, at the Council? He's a student. Watcher-in-training, as it were. I met him when I was studying there. His father was one of the lecturers and used to bring him around to audit classes."

"Poor child," Giles murmured sympathetically.

"Not at all. He's a very bright pupil."

"I've no doubt," he replied.

The conversation lagged.

"So, Ms. Rosenburg? She's changed a lot since I've seen her last."

"I should think so. She was a senior in high school when you last saw her," Giles demurred, taking a sip of his coffee. "She also wasn't over four months pregnant."

"Ah, yes. Well I wasn't going to say anything…"

"I bet you weren't," Giles said to himself.

"Do you think she knows who the father is?" Wesley mused.

"Excuse me?" His voice was tempered with steel.

"I'm merely thinking out loud," Wesley continued. "And I certainly don't claim to know Willow on a personal basis anymore. But if Cordelia's antidotes are to be trusted, then Willow was quite… sexually adventurous once upon a time."

"If you referring to the girlfriend Willow maintained a two year relationship with before she died in her arms, then yes, I suppose you could call her 'adventurous.'"

"I hadn't heard," Wesley said softly.

"Still," he began again. "If one can change one's sexuality as often as they change their mind, what else are they capable-

"I would choose my next words very carefully if I were you," Giles hissed, back rigid against the chair. "You are talking about someone I care about very much. Someone far more loyal than you have ever proven yourself to be. It would be in your interest to keep your speculations to yourself. Someone might take them amiss."

"That's what I thought," Wesley whispered.

The phone rang and Wesley picked it up without breaking eye contact. "Angel Investigations? Yes, Geoffrey…"

Giles cleaned his glasses angrily.

"Arrogant son-of-a-bitch," he mumbled.

Wesley hung up the phone, "Well that's interesting."

"What?" Giles snapped.

"The diaries aren't there. They're missing."

"Missing? Well, did he manage to find out who they belonged to? The name of the Watcher?"

"Someone named 'Nathan Rayne.' Does that mean anything to you?"

"Rayne," Giles repeated. "Son-of-a-bitch."


	6. The Opposite of Nostalgia

Her head began to droop and she jerked awake for the fourth time in as many minutes. Willow knew that this was a conversation that she should really be paying attention to, but she didn't get any sleep in the car on the way back and those five blissful hours on the way to LA seemed like a long time ago. God, but she missed coffee! Maybe if she could just turn around and focus…

She twisted her torso so she was facing the desk, propped her chin on the back of the couch and willed her eyes to stay open.

"I don't understand," Buffy was saying. "Ethan Rayne's family are Watchers?"

"Of course!" Giles was exasperated. "How do you think I knew Ethan?"

"You told me that you fell in with a dark coven in London! _That's_ how I thought you knew him!"

"How many—

Willow heard him take a deep breath.

"I should have been more specific. Ethan and I were at school together, studying to be Watchers. He left six months before I did. I… followed him out to London. I don't know why I thought you knew that. But there are not that many people in the world that know the Dark Arts. Ethan taught that group everything they knew. He demonstrated the magicks we were taught in practice and warped them into something vile, for purposes to which they were never supposed to be used. And I joined him."

"Huh," Buffy said.

"Indeed."

"And you think he has the diaries."

Giles took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

"I'm sure of it. Stealing his family's diaries from the archive. Depriving future generations of any good that his name might have brought to the world. It's typical Ethan. Selfish pillock."

"So where do you think they are?"

"Knowing Ethan, they could be anywhere. He might have even burned them."

"So we need him."

Willow thought she had fallen asleep again, the silence went on so long.

"Yes," he finally agreed. "But I don't know how… Assuming the Initiative agrees to temporarily release him, where will we keep him? He's too dangerous to be at large. I'm sure his incarceration will not have made him any more…"

"Soft and cuddly?"

"Yes."

"Well, the Initiative had a foothold in this town for some time. They probably have or can set up some sort of safe-house in the area."

"That will keep him from hurting anyone physically," Giles said. "But that's not what I'm worried about."

Willow was vaguely aware that he was looking at her.

"His magicks are where he is most powerful. And those can't be contained, not by firearms, at any rate. If this were simply a matter of getting the diaries, I might not be so concerned, but he may be the one who knows best how to amplify this spell. It may be him we need to imbue you with the power to fight the Turok-han."

"Me?" Buffy asked.

"Who else?" Giles reasoned. "Willow can't do it in her condition. I won't let Ethan do it. I don't trust him. You have the physical strength to be temporarily given the magical energy you need to fight this rising evil. And by all indications, it's what's been done in the past."

Buffy let out a breath.

"Okay… So we get Ethan."

"I hate the thought of him coming here."

"I know."

"Do you have a way to get in touch with Riley?"

"I have an e-mail address."

Willow dozed to the sound of Buffy clicking on the laptop. When she snapped awake again, Buffy was next to her and Giles was in the chair opposite.

"Hey, what's happening?" She asked groggily.

"Killing time," Buffy answered. "I guess if he doesn't call within the hour, I'll go home, call you when I hear something?"

"That's fine." Giles's mind was clearly elsewhere.

"How was LA, sleepy girl?" Buffy asked.

"It was… okay," Willow hedged. "You might want to talk to Angel, though."

"Why?" Buffy's eyes were wide.

"I might have said something that was misconstrued… about Spike."

"Ah." Buffy nodded.

"Or, maybe worse? Maybe it was un-misconstrued."

"Yeah," she said. "That would be worse."

"I'm sorry, Buffy."

"Don't be," she assured her. "I was long overdue for a chat with Angel. Probably should ring him up soon anyway. Clear the air."

After that, Willow was too tired to make conversation and the other two were too wrapped up in their own musings to even try. She was half-asleep on Buffy's shoulder when the cell phone rang. Buffy jumped up and Willow slumped over.

"Riley?" Buffy headed for the door. "That was fast!"

The front door closed behind her.

The couch was warm from where Buffy was sitting and sleep was so close she could taste it, but the frown-lines creasing Giles's forehead were worrying her. He had adopted Angel's classic brooding posture. She was having none of it.

"Giles, what's up?"

He blinked several times and looked at her.

"Nothing, Willow. Sorry. Just off in my own head."

"Yeah, I noticed. Anything you want to share?"

He gave her a small smile, "Nothing I should, probably. Just not relishing the prospect of a reunion."

"What worries you the most?"

"I don't know."

He crossed the space between them and sat on the sofa next to her. "That's what worries me. People who worship chaos are notoriously unpredictable. But I know Ethan. And I know he hasn't spent the last few years in prison thinking warm thoughts about me."

"You think he'll come after you?"

"I think Ethan knows how to hurt me where it counts."

His eyes lingered on hers for a fraction of a second.

"You think he'll come after… one of us?"

"Well, that would be an effective punishment," Giles reasoned sardonically.

She squeezed his hand, "I know it's hard. But try not to be worried about us. Just trust that everyone is going to do their job. We've gotten pretty good at this. Besides, I know how to protect myself if it comes down to it."

"I know." He kissed her forehead. "You look exhausted."

"Did the constant dozing off give it away?"

"Do you want me to drive you around for a bit after this?"

"Promise not to leave the city this time?"

He smiled, "Promise."

"You're awesome."

He laughed at that.

From behind them, the front door slammed.

"Well," Buffy announced. "It's all arranged. Ethan Rayne will be arriving with an armed escort in five days."

Giles's smile vanished.

* * *

He had invited her over so they could both research and brush up on containment spells, should they need to bind Ethan magically in case something should go wrong. That was his reasoning, at least. Neither one of them had accomplished much though.

After an hour of flipping through random texts, Willow was dozing again, poor girl, with a text half-open across her lap. Not that he had made any more progress. He knew his limits and he was about two fingers of scotch past the point when the words stopped making sense. Nonetheless, he doggedly persisted, reading each sentence five times, willing them to be absorbed by his alcohol-sodden brain.

Why did he let that cocky bastard effect him like this?

He should have let Eyghon kill him when he came to Sunnydale. It was only out of respect for their history that he had let him flee. Or so he reasoned. The truth was, he didn't want to imagine a world without Ethan Rayne in it somewhere. He just preferred that somewhere to be in a military bunker under lock and key. This Initiative thing had really been a perfect arrangement.

He sighed loudly.

Nothing that perfect lasts forever.

Willow shifted on the couch. He gave up on the text he had been pretending to read and looked over at her.

Poor Willow. Her pale skin was smudged with bruise-like rings just below her eyes. He suspected that in spite of their nightly drives, she was still only getting a few hours of sleep. Her arms were wrapped around the open text and her belly, protecting her child even in slumber. She deserved so much better than this.

He should let her stay here tonight. She should really sleep on a mattress. Maybe if he woke her just to get her to move upstairs, she would fall back asleep. He hated to disturb her though.

"Giles?"

He blinked. In his alcohol-induced haze, he hadn't even noticed her wake up. She stared at him curiously.

"Willow," he cleared his throat. "Sorry. Why don't you go upstairs and sleep in my bed? I'll take the couch for the night."

"I'm not tired."

His look must have fully conveyed his skepticism.

"Okay," she amended. "I'm always tired. But I'm awake now. How's the research coming?"

"It's not."

He sank into the couch, glass in hand.

"Yeah, not really from my end either," she confessed, sitting up straighter. "Giles…"

It took him more than a few seconds to realize he should probably ask her to finish what she started.

"Yes, Willow?"

"Ethan Rayne is a bastard," she stated.

He raised his eyebrows.

"I get that," she continued, working out her thoughts. "I mean, he tried to kill Buffy, did the whole Halloween thing... But that night when Xander and I went to the cemetery with you and you woke up all demony, you went out with him. Like, you willingly went out with him. To a bar. You must have trusted him."

"If there's a point here, Willow, please feel free to come to it," Giles slurred slightly.

"You trusted him," she repeated. "And now you've been in a mood all week and you're drinking yourself stupid."

She took the glass out of his hand and placed it firmly on the coffee table.

"Why?"

"You may recall that between that evening and this moment, he turned me into a demon and nearly had my own Slayer kill me. With my own letter opener."

"I don't think that's it," Willow said with conviction. "I've seen you afraid… Well, I've seen you worried. This isn't that. It's not just that. What is it about Ethan Rayne, Giles? What is his _hold_ over you?"

"Ethan has no hold over me!" He snapped. "Not anymore."

He reached for the glass again, ignoring her disapproving glare.

"Listen Willow, what I'm about to tell you has only been guessed until now, so I'd appreciate it if you keep it between the two of us."

Willow nodded, her eyes wide. Giles suddenly recalled the time he told her he was leaving for England. It seemed so much longer than just two years ago.

"Ethan and I were more than just friends."

Willow nodded encouragingly.

"You know this?"

"I kinda put the pieces together," Willow admitted. "Summoning Eyghon was used specifically for bacchanalias and orgies. There was only one woman on the list that you had when Eyghon resurfaced. I kinda did the math."

"Ah."

"But Ethan was special, wasn't he?"

"Yes," Giles said carefully. "Ethan was special. He and I were lovers at school. When he left, it was only a matter of time before I followed him. He had a destructive personality even at the best of times. There was never anything healthy about our relationship. For someone who claims to hold dear the ebb and flow of chaos, he certainly had an obsession for control."

"He was violent?"

Willow was appalled.

"Never physically violent, no," Giles assured her. "No, he was just… always right. Even when he wasn't. And he always came first. Even when he no longer did."

"You fell in love with someone else," she realized.

"Randall."

"The guy Eyghon killed?"

"Yes."

"Oh," she breathed. "I'm sorry. But you think Ethan had something to do with that?"

"I think Ethan could have stopped the demon from taking him whole. He had more power than any of us. But he didn't. And he did it to punish me."

"Oh. And last time, with Buffy?"

"Nothing would have hurt more than to lose her. I think Ethan was well aware of that fact."

"But still punishing you for loving someone else? After twenty years?"

"For loving someone else, for leaving him and the whole black and bloody business. For becoming a Watcher. And who knows what other reason? The man is a sadist."

"And now?"

He looked at her intently. He could tell, even in his half-gone state, that he was frightening her. But he needed her to know. He needed her to be safe.

"I don't want you anywhere near him," his voice was so low, he wasn't sure that she had heard at first.

"Okay," she whispered. "I won't go near him unless it's absolutely necessary."

He sighed, but he knew it was the only promise he would get from her.

She absently rubbed her abdomen, drawing circles and figure eights, staring ahead.

"Thank you for telling me, Giles. I won't tell anyone else."

"You're welcome."

Silence settled between them and Giles felt like he was going to nod off.

"What are you doing?" He asked suddenly.

"What?"

He nodded at her stomach.

"Oh." Willow colored slightly. "Yeah, um, sometimes this works, you know, to help her go to sleep. But, it usually kinda stops working after I fall asleep and, you know, stop. But…"

She held up two fingers.

"Fingers crossed for tonight."

"Poor Willow," he muttered.

Willow nodded in agreement, but she was smiling.

He put an arm around her and she leaned against his shoulder.

"Do you mind if I…?"

She looked up at him, clearly taken aback.

His brain was working slower than usual, but he felt like he should apologize for something.

"No, that's fine," she said.

He traced his fingers over her hard, round belly following the patterns he had watched her make.

"Am I doing it right?"

Willow cleared her throat, "You can be a little firmer. The point is so the baby can feel you, not just me."

She pressed his hand down with her own.

"Like that," she said, lifting up her hand.

"Oh," he said softly. "And this works?"

"Usually," she nodded.

"Do you want to move upstairs?"

"Huh?"

Giles was confused. He thought he was being pretty clear.

"So you can get to sleep? I can… keep doing this, until you're really asleep. If—if that's what you… want."

"Yeah, actually. That might work."

She settled in against him uncertainly. She didn't know how close was too close. There really wasn't any space between them as they lay there side by side, his front to her back. She could feel one of his arms curled under her head beneath the pillow. The other stretched over her middle. After a few minutes of lying there, she had to say something.

"Giles?"

"What is it, Willow?"

His breath was warm and smelled of peppermint, baking soda and scotch. Not altogether unpleasant.

"Would you mind putting your hand under my shirt?"

When he didn't respond, she winced a little.

"It's just that, rubbing over the top of my shirt kinda itches."

"Oh, right."

He made no move to reposition his hand though, so she laced her fingers gently through his and placed his hand on her warm stomach. She shivered a little as his cool palm touched her skin.

"Sorry."

"You're fine."

He started where he had left off, tracing tiny circles.

"Better?"

"Much," she sighed.

When he had first suggested that she sleep upstairs, her heart had beat so fast she didn't think sleep was going to be a possibility. Now though, she found herself warm and comfortable for the first time in weeks. More than that, she felt safe. She felt exhausted.

"Thank you, Giles," she mumbled.

"You're welcome, Willow."

She felt him press his lips briefly to the skin near her hairline.

Not much time had passed before the shifting of the mattress springs jarred her awake.

"Mmnn.. going?" she demanded.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," she heard him say quietly. "I was going to sleep on the couch."

"Giles, I'm not going to kick you out of your bed." Her voice was thick with lethargy.

"It's not a problem."

"Sleep here," she said. "I'm not in a position to take advantage of you."

"Willow, that's not—

"Resolve face," she stated. "If the light were on, you would see it."

She heard him sigh and felt his weight next to her again.

"You're awake anyway," he reasoned. "I guess I have to begin again."

"Guess so," she said with a grin.

"I thought infants were the ones that were hard to put down for the night."

"Gives you plenty of practice," she murmured, sinking back into the warmth of his chest.

When she finally fell asleep for good, it was with a contented smile.

* * *

The light was the first thing he was aware of. It played on his eyelids. The warm, red glow sent jolts of pain through his temporal lobe. He groaned. It was going to be one of those days.

As he rolled over, he realized that he was not alone in his bed. Willow laid next to him, red hair splayed on her pillow, by all indications still soundly asleep. For a fraction of a second, his eyes grew wide and he had to coach himself not to panic.

When he remembered how he had fallen asleep, his arms around her, his face in her hair, his hand on her bare stomach, the panic was hard to repress. Where had he gotten the nerve to do something that… intimate?

And they had talked about… Ethan… fuck, he had told her about Ethan!

She needed to know, he reasoned. How much detail did he go into? What did she think of him? What had she said?

This was too much for first thing in the morning.

He was forty-six years old. He didn't need mornings like this.

Every step he made to the kitchen was like a mallet pounding his cranium.

Tea. Tea and asprin. And breakfast. To soak up the alcohol.

Then he could start putting things into place.

"Good morning, Giles!"

He almost smacked his head on the cabinet in surprise.

"Oooh, sorry," Willow said, joining him in the kitchen. "How are you?"

He mumbled something unintelligible.

"Yeah, I figured as much. That's what you get. It's not like you don't know better."

He winced.

"Sit down. I'll make tea and toast."

He must have made his standard protest-face, because Willow talked over him and he felt her small hands on his shoulders leading him to the table.

"I can boil water, Giles. Sit down."

She sat down next to him a few minutes later. It took all of his will not to bury his face in the steaming mug of tea. After a couple of sips, he felt just about up for talking.

"Is that better?" She asked.

He nodded. "How about you? Did—did you sleep well?"

She grinned, "So well! Most sleep I've had in almost a month! Thanks so much! Might have to crash over here every night."

His face must have displayed his panic, because she instantly backpedaled, "Kidding, Giles! Wouldn't want to invade your personal, bachelor man-space."

"You're not an invasion, Willow… I just don't think—that is…"

"It's fine, Giles," she saved him. "Finish your tea."

She smiled at him reassuringly, but even through his hungover daze, he could see the smile didn't quite reach her eyes the way it had before.

"Anyway, I better get going." Willow stood up. "Still have to do some last minute research before the new Big Bad arrives."

"Ethan…" Giles muttered. "You're not going to be there, when he comes, are you?"

"I told you I wouldn't. This is just in case."

She threw her backpack over her shoulder.

"Bye, Giles." She kissed him on the forehead. "Let me know how it goes."

After she closed the door, he sat there for several minutes chewing his toast, more confused than before she woke up.


	7. The Lesser of Two

"Will you please stop pacing?" Buffy whined. "I don't know why you wanted us to be here so early. This is the military we're talking about, Giles. They're kinda well-known for being on time."

"Yes, well, one can never be too careful," he said. But he stopped tracking back and forth and sat next to Buffy on the stoop.

Xander yawned noisily.

"I hear ya," Buffy said.

"For God's sake, it's ten-thirty in the morning! You'd think I dragged you both out of bed at the crack of dawn."

"You should talk," Buffy countered. "Looks like I wasn't the only one who had a late night last night. And speaking of which, where's Willow?"

"Yeah, " Xander chimed in. "Where is Willow? Shouldn't she be here to, I don't know, put Ethan in a magical sleeper-hold if he tries anything particularly Ethan-like?"

"Willow isn't coming."

"Why not?" Buffy asked. "It seems like a crucial time for some witchiness."

"If the Initiative has been able to contain Ethan so far, I have every confidence they know what they are doing."

Buffy leaned back against the porch of the Initiative-designated safehouse.

"Right," she said skeptically. "Because they've always had everything under control in the past."

"Lay off, Buff," Xander chided her gently. "Giles is right."

Buffy and Giles stared at him.

"Willow shouldn't be anywhere around this creep," he continued. "Ethan Rayne gets his rocks off by trying to maim or screw over anyone in Giles's life. It's good that Willow's out of the way."

"I guess," Buffy breathed.

Xander's growling stomach broke the silence.

"Probably should have brought some doughnuts," he said sheepishly.

"Will, eh, Anya be joining us, Xander?" Giles asked.

"I don't think so," Xander said, staring straight ahead. "Anya has moved out. We haven't talked for a couple of days."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," he said, mentally slapping himself.

"You shut down her call center?" Buffy asked.

"It had to go."

Giles was confused, but he knew better than to ask. When they left him on the periphery of their conversations, it was usually for his own good.

"I actually feel better," Xander admitted. "When she moved out the first time, it was horrible. And when she came back, I thought that everything would go back to normal. But it wasn't normal. It was so much worse than normal. It became some sort of…

"Atonement?" Giles suggested quietly.

"Exactly! Yes, it was like I was doing penance. And after awhile… this was why I didn't marry Anya in the first place. I love her. I'll probably always love her. But I never want to be tied to her because of guilt."

"Not a good basis for a relationship," Buffy agreed.

"No," Xander said.

"Is Anya okay?"

"I think so. I think we both are."

Buffy smiled. "I'm proud of you, Xander. It takes real guts to do what you know you need to do, sometimes. Especially when it means breaking old habits."

Xander grinned tiredly, "Thanks, Buffy."

"What time is it?"

Buffy held up her bare wrists. Giles checked his cell phone.

"It's 10:41."

"Oh good Lord! I could be at home, enjoying the wonders of an empty queen-sized bed!"

"So sorry," Giles muttered sarcastically. "If I had known you had plans…"

"Wait," Buffy shushed them. "Do you hear that? I think that's them!"

Another minute passed before Giles could hear the crunch of gravel under tires that announced the arrival of the armed escort. The black hummer rounded the bend moments later and rolled to a stop in front of the house.

A marine disembarked from the passenger's side of the car.

"Buffy Summers?"

She stepped forward.

"Graham!" She called out in recognition.

He smiled.

"Hey, Buffy. I know it's not me you were hoping to see, but Riley's deployed on mission in Sri Lanka with the missus. They're having a hell of time over there."

"Yeah," Buffy said. "We, uh, know a little something about that. You have our guest?"

"Sure do," Graham agreed. " A few things before I hand him over to you guys: this place might look nice from the outside, but inside, it's outfitted as a prison. There's no way this guy can get in or out. Just in case, though, I'll have an armed guard at the door 24/7."

"Thanks, Graham."

"Hey, anything to help out the Slayer, huh?"

He turned back to the hummer.

"Alright boys, let's bring him out!"

The rear passenger door opened following a series of clicks and out stepped Ethan Rayne, blinking and wincing in the morning sunlight. His hands were cuffed at the wrists and a guard held his right arm firmly. His black eyes danced around furiously for several seconds before settling on his old friend. Giles felt a current jolt through him.

"Hello, Ripper."

* * *

"So how was the reunion?"

"About as good as could be expected," Giles said. "We traded the predictable round of insults, then he was put under lock and key. I asked him where the diary was, he shot some more barbs in my direction… long story short, the diaries are at his house in Sausalito."

"He has a place in Sausalito? Like, Bay Area Sausalito?"

"That was my reaction."

"It can't be cheap."

"Well, I doubt he paid for it. This is Ethan we are talking about."

"Ah." Willow twirled the phone cord around her finger and watched as the tip grew pink.

"So the plan is to meet here tomorrow morning and drive up to the San Francisco area. We'll probably need to spend the night there. Are you, um, up for another road trip?"

"Yeah, that sounds fine. I'll bring the snacks."

"Good." She could hear the smile in his voice.

"Well…"

"I suppose I will see you in the morning, Willow."

"Good night Giles."

She was about to hang up, but there was hesitation in the silence on the other side of the line.

"Giles?"

"I was just…" he sighed. "It's nothing. Good night Willow."

"Good night."

She stared at the phone thoughtfully.

* * *

"Oh, the Golden Gate Bridge," Xander breathed. "Thank you, sweet merciful Vishnu!"

"My thoughts exactly," Willow said. She had managed to grab a couple of winks when they got on the highway, but after over six hours in Giles's sports car, even she was getting restless.

"Come on, guys," Buffy said. "It wasn't that bad. We never do the whole road trip thing! It was fun! We even did the obligatory junk food stop."

"Yeah, which wouldn't have been bad except for now we have been marinating in the smell of stale french fries for two hours," Xander added.

"Yes, even I'll admit a shower would not go amiss right about now," Giles said.

"How far are we?" Buffy asked.

"Willow?"

She sighed, "I've already programmed the GPS for you. What happened to it?"

"It—it wouldn't stop barking directions at me when we crossed a construction site. Everyone was asleep—

"I wasn't," Buffy smirked. "I just wanted to watch."

"Well, thank you," Giles said dryly. "Anyway, I just kept pressing buttons until it shut up and then I threw it in the glove box."

Willow rolled her eyes.

She was able to salvage some usable directions from the GPS after a few minutes of tinkering and twenty minutes later, they were there.

"Not bad," Xander remarked as they regarded the robin's egg blue split-level. "You think it's been cleaned since Ethan was arrested?"

"I doubt it," Giles said warily.

"Probably filled with creepy crawlies," Buffy said.

"Or worse," Giles agreed. "Willow?"

"I gotcha," she said, advancing towards the house. "I just hope he still has running water. I really have to pee."

Willow approached the front door, spell book in hand. She opened to a bookmarked page and ran her hand over the words. Closing her eyes, she held a hand up to the door and murmured an incantation in Romanian. She waited several seconds and opened her eyes.

"Looks good," she called over her shoulder.

"There's no protective spells? Are you sure?" Giles asked.

"Sure as I can be," she agreed. "I'm not really surprised. It's not like he knew he was going to be going away for several years."

"One way to find out for sure," Buffy said, coming up behind her. She kicked open the front door with a bang and stood back. Nothing happened.

Giles glared in disapproval.

"What?" she asked innocently. "I have to pee too."

"I have a key."

"Oh."

After ascertaining that there was running water, if no electricity, Willow performed a basic cleaning spell so they wouldn't be inhaling dust bunnies for the better part of the next twenty-four hours.

"Hey, Will, you think you can do something about the lights?"

"Easy," she grinned. "_Collucite!_"

Every bulb in the house flashed and dimmed before settling on a comfortable sixty watts.

"Nice," Xander gave his approval. His smile faded as he took in the scene before him. Even without the dust, this place was a mess.

"Guess this explains the lack of protection spells," he observed. "This place is a dump! You think he lived here, or just used it for storage?"

Files boxes stacked end-to-end covered the living and dining rooms. The kitchen looked like it had never been used. Somewhere in all of the rubbish, there was a couch and an end table, but that was the only furniture to speak of. And that was only the first floor.

"With Ethan, who knows?" Giles sighed. "I guess we better get started."

"You know what would expedite the research process?" Buffy asked. "Pizza."

"Oooh, yes please!" Willow added.

"Alright, I'll order," Giles conceded easily. "Everyone pick a box and get started. The sooner we begin, the sooner we can leave."

He walked outside with his cell phone.

"Hey, Willow?" Xander asked. "Do you know some spell where you can just kinda… you know, summon the diaries?"

"What like 'accio Firebolt'? Sorry, Xand, this isn't Harry Potter. We're gonna have to do this the old-fashioned way."

Xander sighed. "Just thought I'd give it a try."

An hour later, the pizza was half-gone, the boxes in the living room were half-searched through, and they were no closer to finding the diaries.

"What is all of this crap?" Buffy demanded. She was leafing through stacks of carbon paper, filled out in triplicate.

Giles glanced over, "If I had to guess, I'd say they were credit card applications."

"But they don't even belong to him!" Buffy said. "This one is for 'Tina Jordan' of Cleveland, Ohio."

Giles shot her a knowing look.

"Ohhh," Buffy said. "God, this is one hell of a charming guy, Giles. How is it that you ever got tangled up with him in the first place?"

Willow glanced at him furtively.

"Youthful indiscretion," he muttered, seemingly absorbed in his own stack of carbon copy.

Willow's file box was more interesting, but so far, she hadn't said anything to anyone. It contained stacks of black and white photos. Most of them were just artistic shots of buildings, London, she guessed, by the name of some of the road signs. When she came to a picture of man in his twenties, asleep, she stopped. A white sheet covered him to his waist, his arm was casually thrown across his chest. The next picture was of him awake, obviously chiding the photographer. In the next, he was sitting up, hand blocking his face from the camera. In the last photo, he had given up dissuading the picture-taker and was grinning sleepily.

Willow found herself smiling back at him. She wished she could have seen that carefree smile in person. It was now so guarded and infrequent. In her chest, an ember of anger sparked and glowed. She could kill Ethan Rayne from taking that easy happiness away from him.

"Hey, is that Giles?" Buffy asked, looking over her shoulder.

"Nope," Willow said. She let the photo fall face-down on the top of the stack and closed the box.

"I think I'm going to try downstairs," Willow announced. "Might help us cover more ground."

"Good idea," Giles agreed. "Let us know if you find anything."

Willow called out the light-spell as she opened the door to the basement, but there weren't any light bulbs and the room remained dark.

"_Fiat lux!_" She tried again. This time, a fireball appeared in a puff of smoke and ozone and hovered under the basement ceiling.

"Woah," she whispered, as she looked around the room. "Lots and lots of files."

Every wall of the dank, cement room was lined with aluminum filing cabinets. As she came closer, she saw that each was labeled carefully.

"W. Archive, 1210-1214," the first one said. "W. Archive, 1341-1352," "W. Archive, 1510-1512." They continued around the room. She followed them until she got to the far corner.

"W. Archive, 1859-1863."

"Jackpot," she whispered triumphantly.

"Hey guys!" she called. "I think I'm gonna need a hand with this!"

Their eyes had long since started to grow heavy and itchy with sleep, but no one wanted to stop reading.

"I can't believe this," Buffy was saying. "It says here that this Nathan-guy had his Slayer cut her hair and pose as a Confederate soldier. He actually had her fighting soldiers! People! He says, 'My Zoe has proven herself a natural in all forms of combat. She may be the Slayer, but she is a Mississipian and a patriot first and foremost.'"

"I wish I could say I was surprised," Giles said tiredly. "It would hardly be the first time a Slayer was used for political reasons."

"But this guy was English! What did he care who won the Civil War?"

"Many British were in favor of the South winning the American Civil War," Giles explained. "They believed that, as the economically weaker of the two sides, if the South could maintain their independence, America would fail as a major economic power, allowing England to remain on top. But really, it might not have even been his idea. You'd be surprised how many Watchers followed their Slayers' orders rather than the other way around."

"No, I don't think I would."

Buffy smiled.

He rolled his eyes amicably.

"Here we go," Willow said. "It looks like Zoe mustered out of the army after a year of service. It says here that her Watcher called her back to Mississippi due to the rising threat of 'inimici nocti.'"

"Ah, perfect."

Giles readjusted his position on the sofa to sit behind Willow where she sprawled cross-legged on the floor.

"The next several pages describe a series of encounters with the _inimici nocti_." Willow flicked through the diary. "Huh! Looks like she used a bayonet to take off one of their heads."

"Creative," Buffy approved. "I like this chick. You know, except for the whole sympathizing with slavery thing."

Willow nodded.

"And then, there must have been some sort of incident because he says that he didn't believe that physical force was going to stave off the rising threat. He believed that magic was the only way to defeat them. And then there's a whole bunch of notes, it looks like research."

"May I see it?"

Willow handed the book over her head to him.

"Fascinating," he murmured. "I've run across snatches of these incantations that he mentions here before… It looks like…"

Xander yawned loudly, "Sorry."

"It's alright," he said, looking at his cell phone. "It's nearly two in the morning. We should probably all get some sleep."

"Where?" Xander asked.

"Well, I've had a chance to look around," Giles said, taking off his glasses. "There's the couch, and a double bed in the guest room. Then of course, there's Ethan's bed."

"I'll take it," Xander volunteered. "What? We brought our own sheets. And I may not like the guy, but I've never been directly screwed over by him. I won't be kept awake by creepy thoughts."

"It's all yours," Giles said. "Willow, you and Buffy can take the guest bed. I'll take the couch."

"Uh, I'm gonna take the couch, if you guys don't mind, actually," Buffy said, stretching. "I'm not tired. Gonna go for a walk."

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I'd have thought you'd enjoy the break from patrolling. There's not likely to be any vampires in a suburb of San Francisco."

"Well, you never know. There was that one Christopher Moore book…" Buffy mused. "No, I'm just still on Slayer time. Might go for a jog. You guys get some sleep."

"Fine with me," Xander said, getting to his feet. "Night Buff."

Willow trailed after him, "Night Buffy. Giles, you coming?"

He could feel the blood rush to his face and he suddenly felt wide awake.

"Um, I'll be along shortly," he called after her. "I just want to finish off this chapter."

Half an hour ticked by and he had only turned the page once. He kept glancing at the staircase, toward the room Willow had disappeared into. He sighed. He could only hesitate for so long.

His feet were felt like lead as he ascended the staircase. He opened the door a crack. She was lying on her side, eyes closed, lips parted, the comforter from his bed at home pulled up to her chest. His stomach gave an odd lurch and he swallowed. The mattress springs squeaked as he sat down on the side of the bed and took off his shoes.

He slid beneath the duvet as quietly as he could, glancing over at her. As his head settled into the pillow, he heard her sigh and she turned over.

Her eyes opened a crack.

"Hey."

She smiled sleepily at him.

For a moment, he wondered if she was still asleep. If she thought he was someone else.

She did give a little start as he cleared his throat, but her smile didn't falter.

"Did you find anything?" She asked.

"Not so much," he admitted. "I'll have another look in the morning."

"Good idea," she muttered.

"Giles?"

"Mmm?"

"You think you could rub my tummy again?"

He was glad for the dark, so she couldn't see the blush he felt creeping up his cheeks. He slowly put his arm around her shoulders. She sighed and leaned against his chest. With his other hand, he traced the same patterns on her stomach as the other night.

"Like that?" he whispered.

"Mmm- hmm," she nodded, voice already heavy with sleep.

After a few minutes, the heat in his cheeks subsided and he began to relax.

He thought about the _weirdness_ of the situation, about how far he had come from that flat in Camden he shared with Ethan, to this moment, snooping through the evidence of his ex-lover's dark dealings, on the west coast of America no less. He thought him of the twisted path that had brought him to this place: that night with Randall and the demon, the incident that stuck in his mind and his heart like a shard that couldn't be budged. That path had led him all the way to Sunnydale, California and to the night when his ex-student paid him an unexpected visit.

A short laugh escaped his throat.

"What?" Willow asked.

"I was just thinking, if I could see myself now when I was twenty-one… I would never have believed it."

She chuckled. "It's funny where life takes you, huh?"

"It is. It never really seems to be where you plan."

"Doesn't seem to really have a pattern. But then there are these coincidences, things that just kinda click. I don't know. It's weird."

"It is that."

"And it's not fair," Willow rambled sleepily. "But I think that's a good thing. We never seem to get what we deserve… we just get what we get."

Several minutes passed and he was sure by the sound of her slow breathing that Willow had fallen asleep.

He kissed the top of her head and smoothed out her hair gently.

"If we did get what we deserve in life," he whispered quietly. "I would have lost you years ago."

* * *

The bed was empty when she woke up. She curled up in the warm hollow that Giles had left, but she knew she was just delaying the inevitable. There had not been any late mornings for Willow Rosenburg recently. She wondered if there ever would be again.

He was hunched over the diaries at the kitchen table when she shuffled in a few minutes later.

"Good morning," he greeted distractedly.

"Hey," she returned, easing into the seat next to him. "Find anything?"

"Hmmm?" He turned to face her slowly. "Oh yes. It's fascinating, really. In this diary, Nathan Rayne compiles a comprehensive history of the Turok-han in detail that we couldn't have accomplished with our resources. Some of his references are a bit sketchy and some of them rely on first-hand accounts of Slayers that I… well I'll have to check some of Ethan's other diaries but—

"Giles," she put a hand on his arm. "Less bibliography, more narrative. I've been awake for five minutes."

"Oh right," he blinked. "Um… right, where was I?"

"Comprehensive history."

"Ah, yes, well according to Rayne, when the Turok-han rise, they always follow a pattern. They really don't seem like the most intelligent creatures. Dogged in their persistence maybe, but we have learned as much first-hand."

Willow had to smile. Giles giddy was a rare and thoroughly entertaining experience.

"It seems that they move out in one's or two's at first, to scout for potential threats."

"The Slayer," Willow said slowly. "That explains why the first one was after Buffy."

"Indeed," he agreed. "The invasion follows soon after. Or not, depending on how successful the Slayer is at subduing the first scouts."

"I guess by recent developments we weren't efficient enough."

"Apparently not," he continued. "In the past, there were whole armies that were led by the Slayer into battle against the Turok-han, one in Gaul in the early sixth century, another in Russia in the eighth, there appears to be some archaeological evidence that dates one battle to the Levant during the First Temple Period."

"But that didn't work in Rayne's time."

"Well, sometime during the 13th century, there was an invasion of a small town in the Rhineland. The Slayer led an army and was killed in battle. Her Watcher used a spell to subdue the Turok-han and, eventually, defeated them entirely."

"Was it our spell?"

"Partly," Giles continued. "It seems that in the two invasions that followed, the same incantation was used, but to minimal effect. Several people were caught in the crossfire and killed. It was Nathan Rayne's belief that the spell needed to be amplified."

Willow nodded.

"So, after a fact-finding trip to the Blue Ridge Mountains, it appears that he combined the Latin incantation that we used with an Appalachian folk ritual."

"A ritual? What are we talking? Incense? Potion? Astral-projection?"

Giles smiled.

"Nothing quite so sophisticated. It involves… actually… it's probably not the kind of thing that needs to be discussed before breakfast."

"Oh God," Willow wrinkled her nose. "That bad?"

He shook his head.

"Just some ritual animal sacrifice that may involve the imbibing of certain… bodily fluids."

Willow shuddered and held up a hand, "That's okay, I'm not the one doing it. I don't need to know. So, we got what we need? We can do this, right?"

"Well, I'm afraid it's not that simple..."

"Hey guys! Will, love the new do!"

Willow smoothed down her hair self-consciously as she turned to face Xander and Buffy.

"Don't listen to him, Will," Buffy said. "You look fine. We brought breakfast!"

She presented a bag of bagels and assorted spreads. "Was Giles waxing prosaic about the legend of the Turok-han? Don't let us interrupt!"

"I'll have you know that these diaries—

"Yeah, yeah," Buffy cut him off. "Just giving you a hard time, Giles. We do appreciate the trouble you go to with your research. What part did you get to?"

He cleared his throat, "Well, I was just getting to the crux of the matter, actually."

"Which is?" Xander prompted.

"Which is, even though we now have the information, the knowledge of the ritual that can amplify the spell to the point where it may be powerful enough to neutralize the threat, we have no way of using it."

Buffy and Willow sighed.

"Why not?" Xander looked around in confusion. "I mean, I thought the deal was give Buffy the power she needs to take these guys out. She does a magical Slayer thing and we all go out for pizza."

"Yes, and who is going to give her that power in your scenario?" Giles asked pointedly.

"Well… oh."

"Yes," Giles concurred. "Because it's not going to be Willow—

"Sorry guys," Willow held up a hand apologetically.

"And unless you know of another witch…"

"What about you?" Buffy asked.

"Me? I've not had that kind of power for years."

"Yeah, but you had it at one point. Doesn't it kinda stick with you?"

Willow and Giles exchanged a glance.

"It was never the kind of strength you would need for this scenario—

"I took his magicks from him," Willow explained. Her eyes burned brightly. "In the Magic Box. I took whatever residual energy he had. He's just trying to… It's my fault he can't help you. I'm sorry."

"Oh. Sorry. I wasn't thinking," Buffy said.

No one looked at each other for a minute.

"I know no one wants to say it," she said. "But, what about Ethan?"

"There's got to be another way," Giles replied. "Just… give me some time. We'll find a way to use the spell without involving him."

"How much time do you think we have?"

His mouth was a thin line.

"I don't know."

* * *

In the weeks that followed, Giles could feel the pressure mounting. It sat on his chest like a physical weight. More and more he wondered if his own stubbornness, if his unwillingness to involve Ethan was needlessly costing innocent lives.

And lives did hang in the balance.

Unbeknownst to Buffy, he had been contacted by the Watcher's Council on several occasions over the past few weeks. Reports of Turok-han attacks had been growing on a global scale. People were dying. And now the reality that the final battle may not even take place on their doorstep was becoming a very real possibility.

Were they too late?

Had he hesitated too long?

Every time he thought about giving up and enlisting Ethan's help, though, the negative possibilities outweighed the good.

Would he even agree to help? Assuming that he did, what if he had some malicious endgame in mind? What if the power he gave Buffy warped her somehow? She could die.

Was he being selfish?

He was a taut wire ready to snap.

Willow was the only thing keeping him grounded.

When they had returned from Salsalito, it had been late. Buffy went patrolling, Xander went home to discover anew the joys of having a bed to himself, and Willow had stayed. Then the next night, he had fallen asleep at his desk and woke up at three in the morning to find her standing over him, asking if she could stay again.

She had slept over every night since.

They didn't discuss it.

Since she was at his house researching when she wasn't at school, it was a fairly natural transition. And though he hadn't said so, he was glad of her presence. The few minutes of calm he had left in the day were the minutes he spent with his arms around her, making sure she was asleep. Her slow, rhythmic breathing and the peaceful look she wore those nights were sometimes the only evidence that he had done anything worthwhile with his day.

Because his research was not progressing.

And during her waking hours, even Willow was starting to look anxious.

His neck popped as he turned his head to the side.

"Sorry," he said.

"It's fine," Willow muttered, absorbed in yet another text. "Giles, I don't get it."

"Hmmm?"

"There have been three incidents in the past where the Slayer or a Slayer-Watcher team has gone up against these guys using magic. How did they do it every time? Where did they get the power?"

He paused for a second and sighed.

"Traditionally, Watchers have a certain amount of magical prowess. In those three battles, the Watchers probably imbued their Slayers themselves. In my case… well, I hadn't practiced the Dark Arts in years before I came to Sunnydale. Self-imposed magical exile, I guess you could call it. And any power I had…"

"I took from you."

He nodded.

She sighed heavily.

"I thought I was done with this."

"With what exactly?"

"With feeling like a screw-up."

He smiled sadly. "It's not a feeling that goes away over night. But if it is any consolation, I wasn't protecting you when I said that I never had the power that was required for this spell. It wouldn't have been enough. We need someone…"

"Like me?"

"Like Ethan."

"Are you ready to deal with the devil?"

"You know what this is going to entail, Willow."

"I'm not taking his magicks by force, Giles."

"That's not what I mean," he frowned. "Good Lord, do actually think I'd ask you to do that?"

"No," she said. "Not… how are you going to convince him to help?"

"I don't think convincing him is going to be the problem. When I talked to him last, he said something that actually encouraged me to think he might have grown a conscience. Of course, that was before he turned me into a Fyarl demon…"

Willow raised her eyebrow.

"He came to me with information. He said that some things were beyond chaos. I think that the world being overrun with Turok-han would fall into that category."

"What worries you the most then?"

Giles took off his glasses and turned away from his desk to face her.

"You know from experience that the magic that one is given is not always what it seems."

"You think he's going to… what, dose Buffy? Make her evil?"

"I don't know. I wouldn't put it past him."

"But Buffy's not evil, Giles. That's not the way it works."

"Maybe not," he conceded. "But he could make her magicks unstable, make her a danger to herself and us."

Willow rubbed her neck and leaned back on the couch.

"I could supervise."

Giles stared at a spot above her head.

"No objections?"

"It's dangerous. And not just because you'd actually have to be in the same room as Ethan. Channeling that kind of energy… it would almost defeat the point of not personally giving Buffy your power."

"But people are dying," Willow said simply. "And we're running out of options."

"I can't ask you to do this." He swallowed thickly. "I don't want you to."

They stared into space, each lost in their own thoughts. Willow took a breath to say something and was cut off by a sharp knock at the door.

Giles looked at his watch in confusion.

"It's almost midnight."

"Probably Buffy," Willow said.

"She doesn't knock," he answered, getting up to get the door.

Spike filled the doorframe when Giles opened it and brushed past him.

"Spike, what are you doing here?"

"I'm not here for you, Watcher," Spike told him. "It's the witch I've come to have words with. I have it on good authority that you two are bunk-buddies."

Willow stood up and turned to him, her face a mask of stone.

"Could we have a second, Giles?"

"Yeah, bugger off," Spike added.

"You can't bloody well presume to—

"It's okay, Giles," Willow assured him, her eyes never leaving Spike's face. "We'll be fine. Could we just have a minute alone?"

"Fine," he relented. "I'll be upstairs."

He shot Spike a warning glance and was rewarded with a disgusted eye-roll. He trudged up the stairs and sat on the edge of his bed with the bedroom door cracked, listening to every word.

"What did you do to her?" Spike started in.

"What do you—

"Don't," Spike cut her off. "Don't patronize me, Willow. You may not like me, but we've been through enough together now that I think I deserve the truth from you."

Giles could almost hear the cogs in her head clicking. Even after everything she had done, in her heart, Willow was still too trusting and kind for her own good.

"I didn't do anything—

Spike let out a disbelieving breath.

"… that Buffy didn't ask me to do." Willow paused. "I just made it so she wouldn't… want you, you know? Like she used to. She still loves you, Spike. That hasn't changed. She just wanted control."

Moments of silence passed and he dug his fingers into the mattress, waiting for the blow to fall.

"She doesn't have control," Spike's voice was so low, he had to inch to the doorway to hear it. "She doesn't have a choice. You took it away from her."

"The spell was her choice, Spike."

"That's not...! That's not the same thing! Damn it, Willow, after all this time, you haven't learned a goddamned thing, have you? If you ever come across something complicated, something you can't figure out, you just fix with magic! You play God and you fuck everything up!"

Giles was a whisper away from throwing Spike out.

"This coming from the same person who used magic to get back their soul!"

Giles's hand froze at the doorknob as he heard Spike's bluster of disbelief.

"Do you know how hard I had to work for that?"

"What, and I just woke up with ability to alter someone's sex drive?" Willow demanded. "I worked for my power, Spike! And I did what I did for Buffy because she's my friend and I thought I was doing her a favor."

"You are a piece of work, Red," Spike replied. "I would be angry at you if I didn't pity you so damn much."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I might have a spell between me and the woman I love, but what's your excuse?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Just because Buffy and I aren't together doesn't mean we don't talk. You're so in love with the man who put that baby inside you that you can barely hold it together."

Giles felt all of the blood leave his face.

"Hell, Buffy didn't even need to tell me. It's written all over both of you. You want each other so bad, it's pathetic. And you're both so damn terrified, nothing will ever happen. So I may be stuck on the outside looking in, but you made the hell you're living in, Willow."

"I'm sorry that you think that I screwed up you and Buffy, Spike," Willow's voice came in measured tones. "I believe that you genuinely love her. But if you _ever_ talk about Giles and me again, I will show you exactly how I 'fix my problems.' You couldn't even begin to understand what... Soul or not, our relationship is completely beyond you."

Even through the rush of blood in his ears, Giles could hear the smirk in Spike's voice.

"Maybe it is beyond me. I'm just a creeping, dead thing, after all. But it doesn't mean I'm wrong."

The door slammed.

Giles took several deep breaths before he opened the door and went downstairs.

Willow was still staring at the front door, frozen. Her fingers were curled tight and her jaw was set.

"Willow?" He whispered, trying not to startle her.

She turned to him, her face determined.

"I know what to do about Ethan Rayne."


	8. Into the Hellmouth

**Only a few more chapters to go... Enjoy!**

* * *

"Are you ready?"

Willow nodded, her eyes forward.

"We'll take it from here, Ryan," Buffy announced to the guard. He saluted and stood to the side.

Buffy, Giles and Willow walked across the threshold of the safe house.

"Please, by all means, come in. Make yourself at home."

Ethan Rayne was seated in a second-hand leather armchair in the middle of a sparsely furnished living room. Only the reinforced steel bars on the inside of the windows broke the illusion of a suburban homestead.

"Enjoying yourself, Ethan?" Giles asked.

"Well, it certainly beats the six by six cinderblock hole I've called home for the last two years," he said, smirking. "But I'm not at all sure about this area. Do you know not one person has stopped by to welcome me to the neighborhood?"

"Shame."

"Mmm, and where have you been, Ripper? Surely you didn't need two weeks to sort through all my possessions."

"Don't sell yourself short, Ethan. You have quite the collection of memorabilia."

Ethan smiled enigmatically.

"And you brought the Slayer with you," he said, grinning at Buffy. "Ever the loyal bodyguard. But who is this stunning creature?"

"This is Willow, Ethan," Giles said shortly. "She's here to assist me."

Willow made sure not to blink as Ethan's eyes raked over her, peeling back all of her layers, searching for a weakness.

"Ah, Willow. This isn't the same little girl I met on Halloween all of those years ago?"

Willow bit the inside of her cheek.

"My, how you've… blossomed, my dear."

Prepared for Ethan's goading, her only reaction was an ironic smirk. Giles's expression must have been more telling, though. For an instant, Ethan's eyes gleamed with something akin to triumph.

"Ripper, you continue to surprise me!"

He stood and looked his old friend up and down. "Your tastes have changed since I knew you last. But then again, you never had any trouble getting anyone you wanted into your bed."

"Ethan…" Giles warned.

"Tell me, was this little miracle planned or was it a miscalculation on your part?"

For a moment, Willow was afraid that Giles would snap and all of their work would be ruined. In the end, he didn't have to.

Ethan crashed through the particle board coffee table with Buffy's hand around his throat. He let out a surprised gasp.

"I think we've exchanged just about all of the pleasantries I can stand," Buffy said evenly, pulling him up by his shirt collar.

"Ripper, you mind keeping your Slayer in check?"

"What can I say?" His voice dripped with antipathy. "I've always kept her on a long leash."

"You're going to stop talking." Buffy shoved Ethan back into his recliner. "We didn't let you out so you could play suburban housewife and snipe at us to death. We have a job for you."

Ethan crossed his arms, but he said nothing. He was accustomed enough to Buffy's warnings to know they were not idle.

Giles sat on the sofa facing him.

"The Turok-han are back."

A look of understanding crossed Ethan's face.

"You know what I mean."

Ethan nodded.

"You also know that your ancestor was the last to face him successfully."

He opened his mouth, then cast a weary look at Buffy.

"You can talk," Buffy permitted him. "About the Turok-han only."

"Nathan Rayne," Ethan said. "Confederate sympathizer and accomplished magician. He combined a Latin spell with some ancient folk belief that by draining the blood of a bat, one could imbibe the power of the creatures of the night. And what do you know? It worked, for awhile, at least. They always come back."

"Yes, and now they're invading again." Giles informed him. "First here in Sunnydale, then at cracks and hellmouths all over the world."

Ethan smirked. "You waited too long, Rupert. You've seen the signs and portends for weeks, maybe even months. And you waited because you didn't want to involve me. That was rather selfish of you."

Willow instinctively reached out her hand to touch Giles's shoulder, then she recoiled at the last minute. Ethan's eye flickered over in her direction.

"But it's not just yourself you were thinking of," he continued. "This one knows magic…"

"Willow is a very powerful witch," Giles said. "She will not be performing the spell though—

"Yes." He leered in her direction. "One could understand how that would cause… complications."

"Buffy will perform it."

Ethan laughed. "The Slayer? How?"

"You're going to give her your magics," Willow said softly.

His laughter reached a crescendo. "Oh really?"

"You're going to do this, Ethan, because it's the right thing to do," Giles said. "To a normal person, that would be enough. But for you… imagine this: every day that passes, more Turok-han leak through the cracks in the Hellmouth. It's only a matter of time before they have the capacity to launch a full-scale invasion. Demons will outnumber humans on earth. Even for you, that goes way beyond chaos."

"Alright," Ethan said. "Suppose I do agree to help. Surely, by this point, even you know the stories. As legend has it, an army of thousands lives right below the surface of the Hellmouth. Stopping one invasion is one thing. It's been done before. But you've dragged your feet for too long, old friend. They have had time to organize. The only way to stop them is to go into the Hellmouth itself and face the army. Do you really think our little spell will be powerful enough for that?"

"I don't know."

"You're willing to sacrifice your Slayer to find out?"

Giles looked away.

"Do you have an alternative, Ethan?" Buffy demanded.

His defiant stare was answer enough.

"This isn't Giles's call." Buffy continued. "Well, it isn't only Giles's call. It's my job. We're doing it. And you're going to help."

"How is it that you know you can trust me?"

"We don't," Giles said.

"That's why I'm here," Willow added.

Ethan raised his eyebrows.

"Willow will oversee the transfer of your power to Buffy," Giles explained.

"That will come later," Willow said. "Right now, I'm just going to check your energies."

She stood up.

"I need you to sit facing me," she instructed. "Buffy, could we clear the coffee table bits out of the way?"

Buffy obliged her by kicking the shattered scraps of particle board off of the carpet. Willow sat cross-legged on the dirty shag rug and indicated to Ethan to do the same. He sat in front of her, wearing a look of obvious skepticism.

She took his hands in hers and closed her eyes.

"I'm sorry about the little comment earlier," he said. "I'm sure you'll make a terrific mother."

"Shhh," she snapped.

"Of course, running after a little Watcher is going to have its trials. Still, I'm sure with Rupert here, you'll manage just fine."

Willow's eyes flew open.

"Ah, I see that our friend neglected to share that little detail with you," Ethan cooed sadistically. "It's not a coincidence that every firstborn in our families for countless generations has been a Watcher. Your child will be born into this life as sure as every other Watcher in his family has been for thousands of years. What is that like, I wonder? To carry a child you know you have no way of protecting. Rupert hated the idea. At one point, he even swore he would never have any children. Didn't want to carry on the family legacy. But in the end, I suppose it's something you don't have any say in. There's no choice. It's destiny."

He brushed her belly with his finger tips.

"You don't want to do that," Willow said.

Ethan was thrown up against the wall with astounding force. Willow stood before him, her pupils dilated and black, her hand extended. Her hair fanned out around her, blown by a hot wind. Electricity cracked between them as Willow held him suspended against the brick fireplace. Ethan groaned in pain as Willow forcibly drained him of his life's energy.

"Ripper…" he pleaded.

Willow felt a hand on her shoulder.

Her concentration faltered, but she didn't release him. Seeing him, the man who had thrived on the torment he inflicted on her, Giles and Buffy, writhing in uncontrollable pain, was so delicious. His face contorted in agony and she sunk her teeth in deeper.

"Willow," the voice sounded so far away, but it shook her. Her grasp on Ethan faltered.

"Willow, come back."

Ethan fell to the ground.

The crackling in the air ceased.

Willow's gaze traveled from her shoulder, where Giles's hand still rested, to his face, lined with concern. She stumbled against him and he caught her.

"I can—can see… why you wanted me to do the spell," Ethan choked out. "I've got to be the most balanced of all of your acquaintances, Ripper."

Giles spared a glance at him.

"We'll be back, Ethan."

With Buffy and Giles's help, Willow made it to the car and collapsed in the passenger's seat.

"Did it work?" She asked. Her head was buzzing and she was starting to see those dark spots again.

"Don't worry about that now," she heard Giles say. She felt his hand on her wrist. His grasp was cool and reassuring.

"Your pulse is racing," he muttered.

"What does she mean 'did it work'?"Buffy asked.

"Not now, Buffy."

He reached his hand up to her forehead. She put her hand over his and looked him in the eye.

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine," he said. "You almost fainted. We should take you to the hospital."

"Just give me some water and wait a few minutes," Willow said. "The spots are going away."

Willow glanced up at Buffy, who was surveying her with undisguised concern.

"I'll be fine Buffy."

"Did you two _plan_ this?" Buffy exploded.

Willow and Giles looked at each other.

"It was my idea," Willow explained.

"Wasn't that… dangerous?"

"Yes," Giles said critically.

"It was less dangerous than the alternative," Willow said, still looking at Giles. "What do you think?"

"I think we should have waited—

"I mean, what do you think about Ethan?"

Giles sighed and sat down on the floor of the car. "I think he's scared of you."

Willow smiled, "Good."

"Good?" Buffy asked.

"This way, he won't try anything," Willow explained. "When he gives you his power, he won't try anything stupid with me glaring over his shoulder. And I won't have to channel any of his energies. With any luck, I'll never have to touch him again."

She shuddered a little.

Giles held her wrist again.

"Your heart rate is returning to normal," he noted. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?"

"I'm sure," she reasserted. "Let's go home, guys. Tomorrow's going to be a big day."

* * *

"So you went all Dark Willow-y on him?"

"Ethan's general MO is to play on one's weaknesses. He has a talent for picking up what will bother a person most. We just played into his game and reacted accordingly." Giles explained.

"Why would he do that? I mean, what does he get out of it?"

"He's always thrived on emotional chaos. I think he gets off on it. He relishes the dark energy that people emit when they are upset."

"Well, he got more than he bargained for," Willow said.

Xander nodded uncertainly. "So, Will, excuse me for being insensitive, but you're not gonna like, try to resurrect a satanic church or anything now, are you?"

Willow gave him a hint of a smile.

"No. It was momentary lapse under controlled circumstances. The world is safe. At least from me."

"So, how is this going to work tomorrow?"

"Ethan will transfer his magical energies to Buffy," Giles explained. "Once she has his power, Buffy will perform the eh, the folk ritual…"

"I'm going to have to drink bat blood, aren't I?"

Giles nodded, his mouth twisted sympathetically.

Buffy sighed. "I guess it's not the worst thing I've ever done. But it might be the most disgusting."

"What about Spike?" Xander asked.

"Hey!" Buffy threw a pillow at him.

"Children, please," Giles scolded them wearily. He cleared his throat.

"After the ritual, Buffy will descend into the Hellmouth. There, presumably, she will encounter the Turok-han and perform the spell. As soon as the spell is complete, she will return to the safe house."

"And I'll give Ethan his power back?"

Giles didn't quite meet her eyes when he answered.

"Yes."

"Well, good. I don't like the idea of carrying all of that energy around inside me," Buffy said. "I know you have it, Will. But you've earned it. You're used to it."

Giles glanced at Willow and nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Buffy," Willow began. "You know that when you relinquish the power to Ethan, some of it will stay with you, right?"

"Well, yeah, I guess." Buffy said. "I mean, no. What?"

"By performing the spell, you open up channels within yourself that allows magic to flow through you," Giles explained gently. "You can't close those conduits once they are open."

"I'll be able to do magic?" Buffy clarified.

"Simple stuff," Willow agreed. "If you want to."

"I'll need to, though," she realized. "Won't, I, Giles? That's what Ethan was talking about. It's too late. They are coming through cracks all over the world. The Initiative can handle small outbreaks, but I'm going to be on clean-up duty after this, aren't I? I'm going to have to perform the spell again."

"I had hoped it wouldn't come to this, Buffy," Giles said.

"But it has, hasn't it?"

He nodded, "I think so."

Buffy stared ahead, "Is it even going to work? Is it going to be powerful enough? You heard Ethan. He said 'thousands.'"

"The spell is powerful," Giles hedged. "In the diary, Nathan Rayne reported hundreds of Turok-han dispatched in an instant."

"Hundreds, not thousands," Xander stated.

"Yes." He paused. "At any rate, the spell will be sufficient enough for you to get out and for us to have time to regroup…"

He trailed off and closed his eyes.

"He was right. The bastard was right. I waited too long."

"You had your reasons," Buffy said. "And we haven't thought of anything better."

She stood up with resolve, "It'll work. It will work because it has to. And if it's not enough, at least we've bought ourselves some more time. We'll fix it. It's what we do."

Xander sighed heavily.

"So, showdown tomorrow?"

" 1300 hours," Buffy agreed. "We should get some sleep."

Willow walked with Xander and Buffy to the door.

"Good work today, Will," she hugged her tightly. "You're still quite the badass."

Willow squeezed her friend back.

"You get to be the badass tomorrow."

Buffy pulled back, "Looking forward to it. Goodnight, Giles!"

"Night Buffy."

"Giles," Xander nodded in his direction.

He embraced Willow at the door.

"Be careful tomorrow," he whispered.

"My part in this is done," she told him.

He gave her a skeptical look as he released her.

"If you say so."

He bent down and kissed her belly, "Goodnight, Little Willow."

She smiled and brushed his hair back.

"Goodnight, Willow,"

"Goodnight, Xander."

He could feel her eyes on him as she turned to face him in the dark.

"You stopped."

"Sorry," came the quiet reply. His fingers started where he had left off, traveling across the surface of her firm, round middle in slow circles.

"Stop it," she told him.

"I thought you wanted—

"Not that. Stop beating yourself up about how this has turned out. You had a reason for everything you did. And we were behind you all the way. You didn't hear us putting up a fight when you said you wanted to wait. We know Ethan's a sick guy."

"But he's the lesser of two evils."

"He's the evil you know, Giles. That makes him all the more dangerous."

He let out a long breath.

Willow closed her hand around his. He returned the pressure gratefully.

"Giles?"

A minute passed before he realized she was waiting for a response.

"Yes?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why didn't I tell you what?"

"About… what Ethan said. About the Watcher destiny thing."

He sat up and tried to make out her face in the dimness of the room.

"Because it isn't true."

"Giles, come on," she said. "Everyone in your family for years has been a Watcher and that's a coincidence?"

"It's not a coincidence. And yes, it is a… calling. But it's not a compulsion. Not like it is with the Slayer. The Watcher calling is a tradition that's passed from parent to child by instruction. Not genetics. And not destiny."

"Oh," her reply was so faint it seemed to be swallowed up by the darkness.

He leaned back against the pillow.

"So, um, you don't want to carry on that tradition?"

"No," he said simply. "It' s a horrible burden to put on a child. I don't understand how any parent… I don't know how you could willingly cast your son or daughter in the role of guardian in this… world."

"I'm guessing your relationship with your father…"

"Is strained at best," he finished.

They lay in silence for several minutes. He would have thought she had fallen asleep but for the tension in her back.

"Was he right? About what he said, about you not wanting to have any kids?"

Her voice sounded oddly strangled and fist squeezed at his heart.

"I was twenty-one when I said that," he said softly. "I was angry at my father and at the Council. And I was in love with a man. Children were the furthest thing from my mind."

Her silence compelled him forward.

"I didn't want to be my father. No, I didn't want kids." He licked his lips. "But things changed. I changed. I met Buffy and you and Xander and I thought… I wanted to have that. I wanted a real family. I just thought it was too late for me."

He could feel her smile at him and he relaxed against her back, savoring the warm comfort in the gentle rise and fall of her chest. He returned his hand to the now-familiar curve of her stomach.

"You don't have to worry, Willow," Giles said. "I promise she'll have a clean slate."

The rigidness in her spine eased slightly and she brushed his hand with hers.

"I believe you."

* * *

Ethan looked around the circle with an expression that could have only been described as apprehensive. Willow didn't know Ethan on a personal level, but she was fairly sure it wasn't a feeling he had often. The warm tinge of smugness washed over her.

"So, how is this going to work?"

"You mean, you don't know?" Buffy asked.

"I'm not in the habit of handing over my magical abilities to just any Slayer," Ethan snapped.

"You just relax, Ethan," Giles instructed. "The main point is to focus on Buffy, with the view that she is an empty vessel waiting to be filled."

Ethan raised his eyebrow suggestively.

"Don't be disgusting and childish," Giles berated him. "Just do as I say."

"For once in your life," he added under his breath.

"Then what?" Ethan asked.

"Then, I will recite the ritual of transfer and Buffy will become imbued with your power."

"Is that where the bat comes in?" Xander asked, grimacing at the grizzly display in the middle of the circle.

"Yes," Giles conceded.

"Where did you get it?" Buffy asked.

"Does it really matter?" Giles replied.

"Don't worry, Buffy," Willow added. "It's fresh."

"Oh yes. Because that was what I was most concerned about. The bat blood I am about to drink being fresh."

"Buffy…" Giles trailed off.

"I'm ready, I'm ready," she assured him. "But it wouldn't be a Buffy party if I didn't complain a little about the impending imbibing of animal blood."

Willow giggled nervously.

"Remember, Buffy—

"I know," she said. "If the spell doesn't work, don't stick around and try to fight. Just leave."

"That's right," Giles said. "There's no point in you sacrificing yourself. It won't do anyone any good."

"No sacrificing myself. I think I can handle that."

"Okay," Giles took a breath. "Here we go. Ethan? Will you take Buffy's hands please?"

Ethan smirked and placed his fingers in Buffy's palms.

"Don't try anything cute with me, Rayne," Buffy warned. "I don't need magic to nail your ass to a wall."

"Still feisty," Ethan snarled. "It's good to know you haven't lost your spunk, Slayer."

Giles cleared his throat.

"If you two are quite finished… Ethan, I need you to concentrate."

Ethan's face lost some of its smugness as he stared into Buffy's eyes.

"Okay," Giles opened a thick tome and began the recitation. "We, gifted with the strength of the pathways of magic, request that, by magic, our gift be transferred…"

Buffy's breathing quickened and her grip on Ethan's hands tightened.

"Giles…" Xander started.

"It's okay, Xander," Willow hissed. "This is the way it has to be."

Giles continued the spell. An acrid burning filled their nostrils and Willow and Xander jumped as the light bulbs in the living room glared to life and then popped with a surge of energy. A hot wind blew through the safe house and surrounded Ethan and Buffy.

Giles had stopped the incantation, but his voice could still be heard, echoing in the walls.

Ethan emitted a low groan. Buffy's eyes dilated and her head was thrown back.

The wind stopped and the house was still.

Ethan looked ragged. He swayed slightly, barely able to support his own weight.

"Buffy?" Willow asked tentatively.

Her nostrils flared and her eyes snapped open. They were completely black and glinted with otherworldly energy.

"I'm ready," she said.

"You think she's okay?" Xander asked.

"She's fine," Ethan said weakly. "She hasn't made it to the school yet. To the Hellmouth."

"It's been two minutes, Xander," Willow said.

"She looked just looked so…"

"Scary?" Willow suggested.

Xander nodded. "I just don't think we should have let her go alone."

"If Buffy should fail…" Giles began.

"She won't!"

"I know that," Giles said. "But preparing for every precaution…"

"We can't be anywhere near the Hellmouth, Xand," Willow told him. "If the Turok-han rise, there'd be nothing we could do except for go down in history as the first casualties of the battle."

Xander shuddered.

"It just doesn't seem right," he said. "We don't let the Slayer fight her battles alone."

"She's not alone," Giles corrected. "Ethan, talk to us."

"Buffy's approaching… the school," he narrated through half-closed lids. "Good Lord, that place has seen better days, hasn't it?"

"The commentary isn't necessary, Ethan," Giles reprimanded.

"Right," he continued. "She's making her way through the wreckage… She's coming to a large room. There's a crack in the concrete… That's it, isn't it? The Hellmouth…"

"What's she doing now?"

"I can't… she was lowering herself down but… I can't see anything…"

His eyes grew wide and his breathing short and panicked.

"What do you see, Ethan?" Giles demanded.

"_Fiat Lux_!" Ethan intoned.

"Was that… Buffy?" Willow asked. "How did she…?"

"She must have seen you do that spell dozens of times," Giles marveled.

"There's a light," Ethan said. "It's hovering above the cavern… but it's so small… and the room, it's so huge… Oh… God!"

"What?" Giles hand curled into a fist. "What is it?"

"There are…Oh, God… there are _thousands…_" Tears leaked out of the corner of his eyes. "There's too many…"

Willow's eyes narrowed and she closed the distance between herself and Ethan Rayne. She put her hands on either temple and looked into his eyes.

"Buffy," she commanded. "Do it. Do the spell and get out. You can do this."

Eyes still wide with terror, Ethan nodded and swallowed.

"_Neque ardoris nec lucis_," his voice was small, almost childlike, but filled with terrified determination. "_ Incende inimicum meum de notce._"

The spell complete, he began to tremble. His eyes rolled back in his head and his body was locked in the grip of a seizure. He fell on the carpet and began to shake uncontrollably.

"Ethan?" Giles grabbed his arm.

"Buffy…" Willow murmured. "Giles, this isn't him, it's her."

She placed her hand on his forehead and concentrated on restoring his lucidity. He was their eyes, their window into Buffy's mind. If they lost him, they lost her.

His seizures stopped and he lay limp and motionless on the carpet.

"Ethan?" Willow shook him. "Ethan? Buffy?"

"Dammit, Ethan." Giles smacked him across the face.

His eyes blinked open, but his gaze was unfocused.

"The light is gone," he whispered.

Willow placed her hands on his temples again and stared intently. She looked into his black eyes and saw green.

"_Fiat Lux,_" she intoned.

A flash reflected in his corneas and his irises reacted to a light only he could see. Ethan brought himself to a sitting position, balancing with one shaky hand.

"What do you see?" Willow asked.

"I don't…" He looked around wildly. "It's empty. I think it's…Oh no…"

"What is it?" Xander asked.

"They're… most of them are gone… but there's more pouring in… God… there's so many…"

"Okay," Giles said. "Get out. Ethan, tell her to get out!"

"No," Willow said, her hands still on Ethan's face. "We're finishing this now."

"Willow, what are you doing?" Xander asked.

"It's okay," Willow said.

"Willow, please…" Giles whispered.

She turned and looked at him.

"Trust me."

Giles hesitated, looking from Xander to Willow to Ethan, who's eyes were still wide and panicked.

"I do."

Willow gave him a ghost of a smile and turned to face Ethan.

"Buffy, I want you to concentrate on the spell you just said," Willow's own eyes took on a darker hue as she spoke. "Just concentrate on the words. Focus on making them go as far as you can. Do you understand me?"

Ethan nodded.

"Good. Now say it again. Forget the Latin. Just say the words. 'Neither heat nor light…'"

Ethan repeated the words in the same child-like tone.

"Burn my enemies of the night," Willow and Ethan recited together.

He jerked violently as the spell was complete, but managed to stay upright. His pupils had contracted to a pinpoint.

"What do you see, Ethan?"

He didn't answer.

"Ethan!" Giles demanded.

No amount of urging could wake him. He sat upright, wide-eyed and completely catatonic.

* * *

"She'll be okay," Willow said. "She has to be okay."

The three stumbled out of Giles' car and ran up the path to the school.

Willow caught her breath as they reached the burned-out husk of the atrium.

"I would have… felt it…if she wasn't…" she gasped.

"You need to stay here, Willow," Giles said.

"No… you might…need me to get her out," she said.

"Stay here, Will." Xander put his hand on her shoulder. "You've done your part. Let us take care of the rest."

Willow looked at each of them and nodded.

"Hurry," she said.

Giles and Xander darted off in the direction of the old library and Willow started to pace.

God, what was taking them so long? This place was a death-trap, even without the Hellmouth lurking underneath. She should have gone. She could...

A step sounded from somewhere in the rubble.

She stood to face the source of the noise. Fearing the worst, she licked her lips, the infamous spell on the tip of her tongue.

A dusty figure reared its head from beneath a collapsed column.

"Neque…" she began.

"Woah!" Xander held up his hand. "Just us! Don't shoot!"

Willow gasped with relief.

"Buffy?" she asked.

"I have her," Giles called out from behind him.

He held the limp form of the Slayer in his arms.

"Oh, God," Willow cried. "Is she…?"

"She's breathing," Giles said. "Let's get her out into the light."

They laid Buffy down on the grass outside the classroom where she and Xander had trig their last year of high school.

"What's wrong with her?" Xander asked.

Willow scanned her face, searching. She placed her hand on Buffy's forehead. The faintest smile touched her lips.

"She's in there," she announced. "She's just…"

She closed her eyes and muttered something under her breath.

"Buffy," she called to her friend. "Come back."

Buffy winced and threw her arm over her face.

"It's bright," she whined.

Giles and Xander let out a breath of relief.

Willow smiled and gently guided Buffy's hand away from her face.

"You're outside," she told her. "Do you remember what happened?"

Buffy sat up.

"They're gone. I really think… I think they're all gone."

"Good job, Buffy," Willow grinned at her.

Buffy groaned.

"Good job to you," she corrected her. "I don't know how you do it, Will. I just know that from now on I am leaving the magic to you."

* * *

"You okay over there, Buffy?"

Buffy fidgeted and her eyes opened.

"I'm awake!"

"Good to know," Willow laughed. "But not what I asked."

"I'm okay," Buffy said, wincing slightly. "Just exhausted. Is this how it normally feels for you?"

"Well, I don't do massive spells after suddenly taking over another person's powers," she paused. "Not usually, at least."

Giles noticed out of the corner of his eye that she was looking at him. He spared her a perfunctory smile, but he barely heard the conversation. It drifted in and out as his own thoughts overwhelmed him.

"… pretty exhausted afterwards…don't really remember much…."

"… fine, I guess… again… hope I get a few weeks off…"

"…gone for good this time. Right Giles?"

"Sorry?" He shook his head slightly and blinked.

"I said, Ethan's going to be locked away for good this time, right?" Xander repeated. "Or does this give him some good behavior parole-thing?"

"I don't think the Initiative's in the habit of releasing their prisoners because they choose to cooperate," Giles answered. "Agent Graham has informed me that as soon as Ethan is stabilized, they are moving him back to the prison. It sounded like they would move some time tomorrow."

"Is he okay?" Willow asked. "I mean, even after we returned his powers he seemed unusually… terse."

"I'm sure it's just a temporary condition."

His eyes narrowed on Buffy. She was flexing her hands and looking at them curiously.

Xander noticed too.

"Hey, Buffster? Whatcha doing there?"

"I can feel it," she murmured, mesmerized. "I can feel it inside of me. The magic."

She let her hands fall to her lap.

"I don't think I like it."

Giles rubbed his hand across his mouth and his breath caught as he thought of how to reassure her. Nothing came to mind.

"How did you feel when you first got your Slayer powers, Buffy?" Willow asked.

"A lot like now," Buffy admitted. "Confused, scared, out of control."

Willow nodded. "But you realized after awhile that even though you never asked for the powers, even though they were given to you, they were yours. And you could control them."

Buffy's brow creased thoughtfully.

"I guess… I just, thought I was over all these… dramatic changes. You know, things I wasn't in control of."

Giles couldn't help but laugh a little at the ironic nature of that statement.

He realized three sets of eyes were staring at him curiously.

"Sorry." He held up a hand. "Sorry, it's not… funny, per se. I've just… come to the rather recent revelation that life never stops throwing surprises at you."

Willow raised her eyebrows and Buffy laughed shortly.

"Yeah, I guess you're right.

She leaned back on the couch.

"So, what does this mean for me, now? Is the Council going to pay to send me all across the globe, hitting Turok-han hotspots? Cleaning up the mess?"

Giles nodded slowly.

"There could definitely be an element of that in the coming months, yes."

Buffy sighed.

"I don't know if I'm up for it."

"Come on," Xander nudged her. "Think about it! International travel… kicking ass in exotic places… Maybe you could pair up with Riley and kick tandem demon ass."

"Yeah, with his wife," Buffy added.

"Oh yeah."

"I just wish that… I wouldn't be alone."

"You mean, Spike?" Willow asked softly.

"I didn't say that…" Buffy studied a spot on the wall intently. "Besides, he couldn't come anyway. Too much daylight on airplanes…"

"He'll be waiting for you when you get back."

Buffy smiled a little.

"So, hear from Anya lately, Xander?"

Xander sighed. "A little, she's uh, found a new job. In sales actually… Not what you think!"

Buffy and Willow gave him identical wide-eyed expressions.

"She's doing telemarketing," Xander explained. "Seems to like it."

"Any chance of you two patching things up?" Willow asked.

"I think things are just about as patched as they are going to get," Xander sighed. "But it's okay. I love her. I just need not to live with her for awhile."

"I think that's a wise decision," Giles said.

Xander gave him a lopsided smile, "Well, I guess we'll see."

He looked over at Buffy, who was nodding again on the couch.

"Sleepy Slayer?"

She jerked, "What?"

"I think you need to get to bed."

"You can stay the night here, Buffy," Giles offered.

"Mmm, no… my bed, need my bed," Buffy mumbled.

"I'll get her home." Xander pulled Buffy to her feet.

Giles walked them to the door. When they reached the foyer, he pulled Buffy into a hug.

"I'm proud of you, Buffy."

"Mmm proud of you too, Giles."

"Oh yes?" He asked with a grin. "What for?"

"For everything," she muttered. "For trusting Willow, for trusting Ethan, for doing what needed to be done. Didn't turn out too bad did it?"

He waited until they had turned the corner before closing the door.

Willow was dosing in his chair, her feet curled up under her. She twitched at the sound of his approaching steps.

"Ready for bed?" she asked sleepily.

"I'll be there in just a minute."

He held out a hand and she pulled herself up.

As she ascended the steps to the loft, he watched her thoughtfully. Her feet were pink and swollen from the extra weight she had put on, but she had somehow still seen to it that her red nail varnish was immaculate. She wore black yoga pants that gave at the waist. They were scuffed and white at the knees where she had bent over Ethan/Buffy earlier that day. A few inches of her scars showed at the wrist, faded from a deep, angry red to a soft pink. Her other hand rested on her stomach. Her eyes were half-lidded with sleep, but still somehow looked content.

She gave him a tired smile as she disappeared into his bedroom and he felt a flush. He shook his head in wonder at the circumstances that had come together so that this broken, intelligent, beautiful woman was sharing his bed. Even if it was in friendship.

He turned out the lights in the living room and plodded up the steps.

"No, Buffy," he whispered. "Things didn't turn out too bad at all."


	9. The Unexpected Stroke

The scraping of a key in the latch brought Giles out of his daydream.

"Hey," Willow greeted him.

She shrugged her backpack onto the floor of the foyer, crossed the living room and plopped unceremoniously onto the couch.

"Okay, I think I'm done," she announced, closing her eyes.

"Done?"

"With school. Screw the last month of classes. I've always felt a degree was overrated."

Giles smiled sympathetically.

"You just have to get through exams."

Her answering sigh was vocal and conveyed her exasperation.

"Right," he said. "Well, it is the weekend. So, no need to worry about it just now."

She raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips.

"You're right, forty-eight hours of recuperation…"

Giles cleared his throat.

"Willow, not that I mind, but what are you doing here, exactly? Shouldn't you be taking advantage of this time between potential apocalypses to uh… I don't know, do whatever it is you do when you're not battling evil?"

"Actually, I don't know what I'm doing here." She looked thoughtful. "It's just kinda where I ended up when I left campus. I've spent more time at your place than Buffy's over the last few months. I guess, it's just homier now to me. Sorry. You're right. I should go."

"You don't have to," Giles answered. "It wasn't a reprimand, just an observation."

Willow relaxed back into the couch and looked at him.

"What were you doing?"

"Honestly?" He took off his glasses and placed them on the coffee table. "Nothing. Just thinking. Thinking too much."

She smiled. "I know what that's like. Oz and Tara both thought my head never shut up. Of course, they could usually think of a way to… "

He watched in amusement as the tips of her ears turned bright pink.

"What I mean is… too much thinking isn't good for you. What's going on in here?"

She pointed to her temple.

"I suppose that I always feel a sense of… loss? I'm not sure how to describe it. After the danger has passed…"

"Emotional adrenaline letdown?"

He thought for a moment.

"Something like that. It's perverse."

"It's not," Willow shook her head. "It has nothing to do with wishing you had failed. It's all about having all these expectations about what could happen and then after it's over, you have nothing to do with all those extra feelings."

"You're very observant."

She shrugged. "That's why Xander, Buffy and I usually get hammered after a big throwdown. But, not much chance of that happening now."

She glanced down at her basketball-sized belly.

"Another way I deal with it is looking forward to the next big thing."

"Well, I suppose that's my problem," Giles admitted. "I didn't want to leave you all when I first moved back to England, but I did it because there was nothing left for me in Sunnydale, from a… career perspective. And even though a lot has changed over the last couple of years, that aspect hasn't. This," he waved his hand. "All of this. This is Buffy's battle. I'm just a… sidekick. It leaves too much time for thinking."

Willow's smile was a knowing one. "Ah, yes. The curse of being a sidekick. I guess we've all been there. But it's not all bad, Giles. I mean, Buffy's gonna need some serious coaching what with the international slayage. She'll probably need you to go with her in at least a few of these cases… get a lay of the land. Besides, it's only a matter of time before the next big evil pops up."

A reluctant smile tugged at his lips.

"Also… I mean," she indicated her belly. "You're going to be having a daughter soon. That's gonna occupy some of your time. I would think…"

"Oh, Willow," he got up from his chair and repositioned himself next to her on the sofa. "I didn't mean to imply that it wouldn't. I told you I was just thinking too much."

"I know," she sighed. "You know, we haven't even talked about names yet."

"Names?" he repeated.

"Well, I thought we could give our baby one," she replied, smirking. "You know, for tradition's sake."

He blanched a little at the use of the possessive pronoun. Intellectually, he knew, of course, that the baby was half his. But Willow was the one carrying her. His role in her life had yet to be determined.

"Um, well," he started. "I, uh… have you thought of any?"

"Oh sure," she said. "Tons. Most of them are way archaic and goofy. But I think I've weeded out the more ridiculous ones. I really like Katherine or Rebecca."

"Those are nice."

"I used to like the name Anya, but, you know, then Anya kinda ruined it for me… I also like Emma or Anne."

He nodded, "Sure, either one of those."

"And, I mean, there's some kinda pagan names I like. I mean, I know you can go too far, but I think 'Sage' is pretty."

Giles nodded again, not quite meeting her eyes.

"Or Patchouli."

"Sure."

"Oh, come on!" Willow exclaimed. "I'm not going to name my daughter 'Sage Patchouli Giles!' I'm just trying to get you to contribute."

"Wait," Giles said. "You want to give her my last name?"

Willow colored slightly. "Well, I thought Rosenburg-Giles sounded like I was limiting her to a career in the diamond district of Brooklyn."

He shook his head slightly. "That's not what I—

"I know what you meant." She looked at her hands. "And it may not be very pro-feminist of me, but, I just, I like the way your name sounds. And my last name, it's my parents', you know? I haven't really felt like I was part of their family for years now. And I thought, I'm starting my own family now and you're part of it. So… I hope you don't mind."

He pulled her close to his chest with a one-armed hug and kissed her forehead.

"I certainly don't mind."

She smiled up at him and he felt the same hot flush from the night before.

"What about Charlotte?" He asked.

* * *

He found himself alone in bed when he woke up the next morning. He sleepily fumbled across the sheets where she had slept, but the covers didn't retain any of her warmth. She must have left hours ago.

He glanced at the alarm clock and groaned in disgust. It was nearly ten.

Emotional adrenaline letdown indeed.

A vibration from the nightstand jarred him further out of sleep.

"Hello?" He answered the phone.

"Giles," Buffy greeted him. "We've got a problem."

"What's that?"

"It's Ethan. He's missing."

Giles was sure his heart stopped beating for a full minute.

"What do you mean, missing?"

"I mean, Riley contacted me just now. Graham and the other guards were found with their throats slit in the Hummer not an hour outside of Sunnydale."

"Why are we just hearing about this?" Giles demanded. "They were supposed to have left four days ago!"

"I don't know exactly. It seems like the four guards were making regular reports. The Initiative was informed that Ethan would be staying in Sunnydale longer than expected. The reports stopped two days ago and they just sent someone to check it out."

"He could have recorded those reports before…"

"He killed them," Buffy finished. "That's what I'm thinking."

Giles put his face in his hands.

"Ethan with a four day head start," he muttered, stumbling to his feet. "We need to meet."

"I'll get Xander. Wouldn't hurt to have Anya on this either," Buffy said.

"Yes, and Willow as well."

"Well, she's over there, isn't she?"

"No, she left early this morning."

"It's Saturday. Where did she go?"

"I don't know, I assume…" he broke off abruptly as his eye caught on something on the carpet. A Polaroid photo had been slipped under his door. His hand shook violently as he picked up the picture and took in the image. It was of Ethan. He stood above Willow and Giles as they slept. With one hand, he held the camera, the other was poised over Willow's sleeping form, like a cobra ready to strike.

He felt ill.

"Oh, God no," he whispered.

"Giles?"

"It's Willow. Ethan has Willow."

"I don't understand," Xander started in. "How could he have possibly gotten in and out of your house with her and you never woke up?"

"Wait, what was Willow doing at your house?" Anya asked. "Are you two sleeping together? I mean, not under-magical-influence sleeping together? Why am I always the last to know?"

"I think it's pretty obvious he used some sort of magical whammy on Giles to keep him asleep," Buffy answered Xander. "And Anya, we haven't seen you in two months, so if you're out of the loop, it's your own fault. You're here to help, so please just shut up!"

Giles paced the length of Buffy's dining room table.

"Where would he have taken her?" He asked for the fourth time since he arrived. "God, what could he be doing to her? This is bloody useless!"

Anya raised her hand.

"What?" Giles snapped.

"We could do a location spell," she suggested. "I mean, unless you think that he'd be cloaking himself somehow."

"That doesn't seem likely," Buffy said. "I mean, he left you that photo, Giles. He's clearly doing this for your benefit."

Giles's breath caught in his throat.

"He probably wants you to find him, don't you think?" She asked.

He nodded. "Probably. But the locator spell. It's pretty advanced. We'd need someone like Willow…"

"What about me?" Buffy shrugged.

"You?" Xander asked.

"I mean, I don't have to understand it, do I? I just need to channel the energies or whatever…"

"I could talk you through it," Anya volunteered.

"Fine," Giles acquiesced, sitting down hard in a dining room chair. "Let's just be quick about it."

"Okay, we need something to represent a map of Sunnydale," Anya instructed.

"How about a map of Sunnydale?" Xander asked. "There's one in the desk in the living room."

After spreading out the map and dusting it with crystal powder, Buffy recited the words as Anya coached her. Her breathing lengthened and her eyes grew wide. She gripped the table so hard that it splintered at her fingertips.

"Buffy?" Xander asked.

"Look!" She said.

The particles of crystal powder swirled and lumped together on a spot on the map right above Broad Street.

"Hah! It worked."

"Good job, Buff," Xander said, cuffing her on the shoulder.

"Wait," Anya said. "Isn't that—

"The Magic Box," Giles finished. "Bastard."

* * *

"You lot just stay back," Giles said as they neared the wreckage of the magic store.

"Yeah, that's likely," Buffy said.

"I mean it! You have no idea what Ethan Rayne is capable of…"

"Bringing Halloween costumes to life? Dosing band candy? Trying to possess me with an ancient Etruscan demon? I think I have a pretty good idea, Giles."

"Yes, but—

"Quit wasting time," Buffy cut him off. "This is Willow we're talking about. We're all coming."

Giles sighed and headed into the ruined store. A huge wooden column blocked his path.

Buffy heaved the pillar out of the way with a grunt.

"I would have liked to have seen you do that by yourself," she remarked.

His pursed lips were all of the thanks that she received.

"Wait, how did Ethan get in here then?" Xander asked.

"He probably went around to the back," Giles answered. "The old training room was only thing that wasn't destroyed."

The four picked their way through the rubble. When they reached the back room, Buffy kicked the door open and stood back.

A grotesque scene greeted them.

Ethan sat back on a folding chair, a leather-bound codex in hand, observing the sight before him with a twisted smile. Willow dangled in mid-air in a stasis field that Giles recognized as the one that he had used on her the year previously to block her magicks. Her head lolled to the side. Her eyes were glassy and half-closed. A few inches above the vertical scar on her right arm was a black mark. Giles felt a twisting in his gut as he realized what it was: The mark of Eyghon. The new tattoo shined like black vinyl over irritated red skin.

"Ah, Ripper," Ethan greeted the new arrival. "And the rest of the Scooby gang."

"Ethan, what have you done?" Giles whispered.

"Nothing yet," he replied. "I had to wait until you arrived, old mate."

Buffy and Giles both made a run for the magician and were simultaneously knocked back by an invisible force.

"Everyone just calm down."

"Why Ethan? Why her?"

"You know why, Ripper," Ethan leered. "I can't imagine a more fitting end to our relationship than to watch you be torn apart by the hands of your own lover."

"Ethan… you know what this will do to her," Giles said, nearly begging. "Even if you don't kill her…you could kill her child."

"Your child, you mean," Ethan said. "Yes, that could be an unfortunate side effect. But it's a risk I'm willing to take."

"What did I do to you that you hate me this much? What—

"You really need to know?" Ethan screamed. "After all this time, you need a list? You left me for that bloody poofter Randall for starters…"

"That was twenty years ago, Ethan!"

"You left me rotting in that hell hole in London, while you crawled back to your school mates at Oxford. I was wrecked and you did nothing! Then, you got your bloody life back. Became a Watcher. And then you had me imprisoned in that dungeon in the middle of the desert! Do you know what they did to me there, Rupert? Or did you ever even think?

"They _dissected _ me. They psychically tore me apart! They leeched out all my powers to study them and when they couldn't be contained, they gave them back. They didn't know what they were doing! It was worse than death!

"Then, you made a call and got me out. Only to have me fucked with and tortured by your little harpy."

He pointed at Willow.

Giles held up his hands.

"You're right. It's my fault. Just please, let her go. Do whatever you want to me! But, just let her go!"

"Sorry, mate," Ethan said. "We're not doing things on your terms anymore."

He glanced at Willow and she seemed to wake up slightly.

She looked down at her feet hovering inches above the ground. Her gaze drifted over to her friends.

"What's happening?" She asked groggily.

"Ethan…" Giles tried again.

He smirked and a bolt like green lightening shot out of the book that he held in his left hand.

"Gi— Willow's voice was cut off with a scream. Her eyes flashed with an ethereal green glow.

"No," Giles moaned.

Willow's answering smile was filled with malice.

"You," she said, in a deep voice entirely unlike her own. "Did you really think the vampire could stop me forever? I have walked this world for _millennia_, old man. And you thought you could contain me. You and your friends. I've destroyed all of them. One by one. And you're next."

"He has a point, Ripper," Ethan said.

"Ethan, don't—

With a wave of his hand, the magical bounds that suspended Willow and Eyghon in stasis dissolved and she fell onto hands and knees with a snarl. Her head snapped up and she ran at Giles at full force.

Lost in his gloating, Ethan didn't notice that he was in the direct trajectory of the attack. He was knocked off his feet and fell headfirst into a concrete slab jutting out from the wall.

Eyghon didn't break a stride. The demon that Willow carried fell on him with its hands around Giles' throat.

"Giles!" Buffy exclaimed. She ran towards the demon but hesitated before she attacked. There was no way to stop Eyghon without hurting Willow.

"What do I do?" She shrieked.

"It's okay!" Anya said.

"What?!"

"She won't kill him!" Anya said. "Not right away. Eyghon will jump into his body. That's how he kills his victims. If you want to save Willow…"

Giles couldn't breathe. He could feel the blood thundering in his ears. As much as every instinct told him to fight back, he couldn't. The demon was wearing Willow's face. Somewhere behind that mask of unearthly hatred, she was there.

Anya's voice echoed in his head.

_If you want to save Willow…_

Buffy's face came into his field of vision. She asked him something, but he couldn't make sense of the words.

He tried to tell her it was okay, but only a voiceless whistle came out of his throat.

He was vaguely aware that Eyghon's grasp on his throat was slackening. Willow's eyes flashed once more and he felt her full weight as she fell against his chest. A cold, dark wave of energy rushed over him and all was quiet.

Willow's body felt unimaginably heavy as she collapsed against Giles. She wanted to lay there forever. But there were hands on her shoulders and under her arms. Someone was pulling her back.

There were voices.

Xander and Buffy.

They were worried.

"Willow, we gotta go," Xander said in her ear.

"Why? Wha—

"It's Giles," Buffy said.

She didn't understand.

Giles was laying on the ground, but he seemed okay. He was starting to stand up.

"Eyghon got him," another voice said.

Willow looked up. Anya.

She followed her glance back to where Giles had fallen on the floor. As he got to his feet, his movements were jerky and spasmodic.

He turned to her, his face hardened into a façade of anger. His eyes weren't his own.

"Oh God," she scuttled back against Buffy.

"We gotta go, Will," Xander said again.

"We can't leave him!" She protested.

"Leave, little girl," the demon told her. "Your lover's long gone. I have unfinished business with him."

"There's nothing we can do right now, Willow," Buffy said.

"Yeah, the only way to stop Eyghon is to cut off the host's head," Anya agreed. "We should probably wait until you're not around to do that."

"That's not the only way," Willow said through clenched teeth.

She hauled herself to her feet and rushed at Eyghon with her hands extended.

"Willow, what are you doing?" Xander ran toward her, but Buffy held him back.

"Hold on a minute, Xand."

"She's gonna get herself—

"Just wait."

Energy swirled around Willow like dark light.

"Leave this alone, witch," Eyghon hissed. "This isn't your fight. He's had this coming for years."

Willow's eyes burned black.

"You can't have him."

Holding her hands to Giles's chest, she drained the energy from him. The air around them cackled with static and the demon inside him shrieked in pain.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"What is she doing?" Xander asked.

"Ohhh," Anya gasped in realization. "She's putting the demon in danger, so he has to jump bodies."

"Won't he just jump back into her?" Xander asked.

"Maybe," Anya said. "But the mythology says that when the Sleepwalker is in trouble, he transfers into the nearest dead or unconscious body."

They glanced at the floor where Ethan lay into a dark pool of his own blood.

Willow winced as the energy between her and Giles became more powerful and unstable. The demon was feeling something, that much was certain. She needed it to jump soon. She didn't know how much more of this Giles would survive.

"Hold on," she said. "Please, just hold on."

The green energy that illuminated his eyes winked out and his knees buckled. He fell to the hard concrete with a shuddering breath.

She gathered him in her arms, with his head on her lap.

"Giles? Giles? Rupert! Please, wake up! Giles!"

His head was throbbing and he wanted to stay in the dark. It didn't hurt as much there. But someone was calling his name. She was calling his name. She sounded scared.

Her eyes were still wide and black.

He knew he twitched in fright when he first looked at her. She was still a dark and powerful force when she wanted to be.

"It's okay," she assured him.

Green irises rimmed her dark pupils and she was Willow again. She was safe.

For the moment.

"Where's Eyghon?"

He sat up and the room spun. He felt her small, cool hand on the back of his neck.

"Ethan," she said simply.

Giles watched in unconcealed horror as the unconscious body of his oldest acquaintance thrashed back to life, animated by the demon he had summoned.

"Giles," a voice came from the door. Buffy.

"What should we do?"

"Help me up."

Buffy crossed over to him and pulled him forcefully to his feet. Giles limped over to the shattered weapons rack that held the training implements he and Buffy had once used. He selected a broad sword. It left a trail of sparks as he pulled it along the cement to where Ethan lay.

His old friend's head snapped up and Eyghon snarled at him with Ethan's mouth.

"I'm sorry, Ethan," Giles said. "But I should have done this years ago."

He lifted the blade above his head and let it fall, neatly severing Ethan's head from his neck. The body seized gruesomely for several seconds and then lay still, finally dissolving into a viscous blue liquid.

Giles let out a breath and turned to face the group. Anya looked impressed. Buffy's eyes were wide with horror. Xander kept opening and closing his mouth, for once at a loss for words.

He ignored them for the moment and knelt down next to Willow. He tilted her chin upwards and searched her eyes for a sign that she was alright.

"Willow?"

"I'm okay." Her smile trembled. "I think I'm okay. What about you?"

He shook his head.

"I don't know."

"Let's get out of here, huh?" Xander suggested.

Giles wrapped one arm around Willow's waist and put her other arm across his shoulders to help her to her feet.

She stood for a second and then swayed, her balance faltering.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know." Her voice seemed far off.

Even in the faint light coming through the cracks in the wall, Giles could tell she was pale. Too pale.

"I think I sat in something wet," she said, brushing the back of her dress with her hand.

Giles grabbed her wrist and looked at her palm as it came back red and glistening.

"No," he stated. "You're bleeding."

Willow's breath hitched and she fell against him.

"Willow!" Xander rushed to her side and helped Giles support her.

"We need to go. Now."

* * *

The trauma unit at the hospital was always busy on a Saturday night, and today was no exception. Nurses wheeling crash carts and the scuff of tennis shoes on tile as interns rushed back and forth culminated in a cacophony outside of the waiting room.

Giles heard none of it.

He held his head in his hands as he replayed clips from the last few months in his head. Torturing himself with the memories of her.

Willow falling against him in shock when she found out she was pregnant, then comforting _him_ in his car a few hours later. The undercurrent of excitement in her voice over the phone when she told him that they were having a girl. He thought of the smile that never seemed the leave her face, even through all of the chaos that had surrounded them as of late. He thought of the warmth of her body and the way she smelled as they drifted off to sleep.

He had given her a gift she never asked for and now the mistakes of his past had come to take it away.

For the first time, he completely understood what had compelled Willow that June evening in England when she lay down in the bathtub in the coven house and severed her arteries from wrist to forearm. Guilt could be suffocating.

"Giles?"

He looked up into the blinding florescent light at Xander.

"What is it, Xander?"

"You, um, you still have blood on your hands," he said, taking a seat next to him.

Giles's laugh was hollow.

"So I do," he said.

"You should probably take care of that. I mean, you don't want Willow to see…"

"You were right, Xander," he said, looking straight ahead. "Everything you accused me of was right. But I can't hear it right now. She's been in surgery for an hour and the doctor said she'll- she will- she could lose the baby, so if you don't think that's punishment enough…"

"God, Giles. I wasn't going to say anything like that!" Xander looked appalled.

"Then what is it?"

"I just stopped by your house and got some new clothes," he said. "I thought you might want to clean up."

He didn't respond for several seconds.

"Giles?"

"I don't-" he cleared his throat. "I don't think I can move."

Xander stood up and helped him to his feet. Giles leaned on the younger man and let him guide him to the men's bathroom.

Once inside, Xander locked the door and ran the water in the sink. Giles put his hands under the warm stream and stared at them, not really knowing to proceed. He heard Xander sigh and work the soap dispenser. He lathered Giles's arms up to his elbows.

"God," he said again. "You've got blood all over you."

"I should just throw these clothes away."

"Probably for the best."

Xander shut the water off.

"Thank you," Giles said softly.

"Giles, I…" He heard Xander swallow noisily. "I wasn't right. About what I said. I wasn't right to stay mad at you."

He looked up at Xander, his face slack and expressionless.

"I know you'd never hurt Willow or any of us on purpose. It was my stuff. Some of it was Anya. Some of it was just me being… I don't know, jealous, I guess."

Giles nodded.

"This was not your fault."

His answering laugh sounded like a dry hiss.

"You can't hold yourself responsible for something you did when you were—

"Your age?" Giles asked.

"You were a different person," Xander shrugged. "Everybody deserves to be forgiven, Giles. You shouldn't have to watch over your shoulder for demons from the past."

"Maybe you shouldn't. But you do."

Xander looked at the floor.

"Whatever happens," he paused. "You and Willow. You will have my support."

Giles wanted to thank him, but his breath caught in his throat. He flinched slightly as he felt Xander's arms around him.

"I'm sorry," Xander said.

He patted Xander on the back uncertainly and pulled back.

"I can take care of the rest myself, Xander."

Xander nodded and handed him his change of clothes.

"Do you want any coffee?" He asked, heading for the door.

"Sure."

Not that it would make a difference. Giles was sure he would never sleep again.

* * *

The first thing Willow felt when she woke up, groggy and disconnected, was relief. She could still feel her baby girl inside of her, just heavy enough to be uncomfortable as she lay on her back. The next feeling was confusion. At six months of pregnancy, she shouldn't feel quite _that_ heavy. There was an extra weight on her abdomen.

Her hand drifted down her side and settled on a mass of hair.

She started a little and the mass moved.

"Giles?" She asked.

He looked up at her confusedly, his eyes unfocused.

"Willow?" he blinked. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine! How long have I been out?"

Giles ran a hand over his mouth.

"I don't know. Six hours?"

"Mmm," she relaxed into the pillows. "That's not so bad. What happened? I mean, after we left the Magic Box?"

"You- you uh, fainted in the car."

"Seem to do a lot of that," Willow muttered.

"You were rushed to the OR, with hypervalemic shock caused by placental rupture."

"Oh God!"

"They were able to stop the source of the bleeding and they gave you a few units of blood."

"Is everything…?"

"You're okay," he said. "And the baby- the baby is…"

"Giles?" She asked, eyes wide.

"She's fine," Giles said. "They said she's going to be fine. You just need to rest for a few days."

"Then why are you squeezing my hand like that?" She glanced down at their hands. Her fingertips were tinged with red.

"Sorry, sorry." He dropped her hand like it burned.

"Giles, what are you not telling me?"

"Nothing. Really."

Willow adjusted the bed so she was sitting upright and looked at him searchingly. She slipped her hand back into his.

"Tell me."

He looked down at the hospital sheets.

"They, the doctors, they told me when you went into surgery that, that it was unlikely that… They told me that she wasn't going to be okay. That the baby wasn't going to survive."

Willow's brow creased in worry and she ran her thumb in small circles over his hand.

"They were wrong."

"There was so much blood, Willow…"

He looked up at her.

"I know." She ran a hand through his hair and rested it on his neck. "But we're fine."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I would have never hurt you. I would have never hurt her."

She brought his face to her lips and kissed him at his hairline.

"I know that."

She smiled grimly as he rested his head on her chest. The moisture from his tears quickly soaked through the flimsy fabric of her hospital gown. She murmured words of comfort as she ran her hand over the back of his head.

"You should get as far away from me as possible."

"Well, now you're just being dramatic."

He looked up at her sharply, the skepticism heavy in his wet eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said firmly. "And neither are you. We need you."

He broke her gaze and relaxed back onto her chest.

"The first thing we do," she continued. "Is get rid of these stupid tattoos. So there will be no more of Eyghon Revisited. Why did you keep yours anyway?"

"A symbol of my past, I suppose," he mumbled into her cotton gown. "If I were smart, I would have burned it off, like Ethan."

"Ethan," Willow repeated. "How are you feeling about that?"

He sat up.

"It's sick really," he said. "But I feel… relieved. Like a weight I didn't even know I was carrying is gone."

"It's not sick," Willow said. "He was a twisted fuck."

She unconsciously wrapped her arms around her belly.

Giles glanced down at her.

"I should have killed him years ago," he said. "It makes me sick what he did…"

"You can't help all of the garbage you collect in life, Giles," Willow said. "And you can't help that you had hope that he would change."

"I don't know how, Willow, but I swear, I'll make it up to you."

She smiled at him sadly. "When are you going to realize, Giles, that the only one blaming you is yourself? You carry around guilt like a badge of honor. It strikes me as the worst kind of irony that the man who forgave me for almost killing him and destroying the world is incapable of forgiving himself. If I've managed to come to terms with what I did, then you should too."

He looked away and she sighed.

"There's nothing to make up for. But if you want to do me a favor, will you stay a little longer?"

"Sure."

"Good."

She moved over to the side of the bed.

"Come here."

He blinked.

"Um, not sure if there's enough room."

"Well, squish in," Willow commanded.

He laid down next to her carefully. She laced her fingers through his and guided his hand around her.

"That's better," she sighed. "You're the only one that can get me to sleep."


	10. Grace

**Last full chapter! Saved one more twist for the end!**

* * *

"I am so bored, I am going to crawl out of my skin!"

"Well, please don't," Giles snarked.

"Seriously, Giles, I really don't think this is what the doctors meant by taking it easy!"

"Really? Because it seems to me that when we left they specified at least three days in bed."

"It's been three days!"

"Yes, and tomorrow you can do what you like. Within reason," he amended. "It hasn't been all bad. Buffy and Xander stopped by. Anya came."

"We played monopoly, Giles," Willow said darkly. "Do you know what it's like to play monopoly with Anya?"

"I played real-life monopoly with Anya. She was my employee, if you recall."

"Well, it's just the worst."

"It's nearly eleven, Willow. Why don't you try and get some sleep?"

Willow sighed heavily.

"I guess."

Giles reached over to turn out the light and settled in next to her.

"You know I don't mean it, right?"

"Mean it?"

"I'm just joking. 'Taking the piss,' as you Brits say."

"When have you ever heard me say that?"

Willow laughed. "Never, but Spike says it."

"Ah, yes, and Spike and I are like brothers."

She giggled some more.

"I just appreciate it. You taking care of me. I know I haven't been the most fun company over the last few days."

"Nonsense," he protested. "I imagine if I were six months pregnant and on bed rest, I wouldn't be that much fun either."

Willow snorted. "There's a mental image."

She tugged on his arm and pulled him closer to her. He felt his heart beat quicker and wondered if she could feel it against her own ribcage.

"What are we going to do, Giles? After the baby is born, I mean? We haven't really talked about it."

He hesitated a moment. "Well, I've thought about it. This apartment is so small. And you practically live here now. I know that it's been a temporary situation, but it seems silly for you to move back in with Buffy. I mean, unless you want to. I was thinking about maybe buying a bigger place. With room for all three of us. Would- would that be something you would like?"

He felt her breath on his face as she turned to him.

"You mean that?"

He flushed, as much at her proximity as anything else.

"I do."

Her smile radiated in the dark.

"I'd like that very much," she said.

When he felt her lips on his, at first he thought he'd imagined it, the touch was so delicate. She leaned into him and he felt himself responding, albeit with heavy restraint. This was gratitude. This was not romantic. This was not an opportunity to get carried away.

He felt her hand at the base of his neck, guiding him closer toward her. Her tongue brushed his lower lip and searched out his own in the space between his lips. He deepened the kiss, his heart thudding in his ears. She was so warm, so perfect. His hand traveled up along her side, grazing her breast.

He wanted to touch every inch of her. Completely lose himself inside of her.

His breath caught and he pulled back suddenly, his face on fire as he thought about what he has nearly done.

"What?" she asked.

"Willow, we can't do this." He said haltingly.

"Why not?" Her voice was laced with incredulity.

"Because I am not good for you." He stared at her in the dark. "I am over twice your age. By the time you are my age, I will be in my sixties. This is not a good idea."

"I know that. I am very aware of that. And I don't care."

"Willow, you have seen what happens to people who love me."

"It's too late for that."

He closed his eyes and leaned against her hand as she caressed the side of his face. He had to act now or it would be too late.

"I can't." He sat up. "I'm sorry."

He heard her cry out as he closed the door to his apartment. He made it to the parking lot before he was sick.

* * *

When he came back in the morning, the loft was empty. The drawer of Willow's clothes was still full and the bed was unmade. He hoped she had made it home okay. He should have handled it better. How could he have handled it better? What could he have said?

He was pretty sure that there was some instinct, some _thing_ that other people had that he had missed out on when it came to dealing with other people.

God, he hoped she was okay.

His front door banged open and Buffy burst in stalking towards him.

"Buffy?"

She walked right up to him and slapped him across the face.

"Ow!"

She must have restrained herself a little, because he wasn't dead. Still, that hurt.

"Buffy!"

"Are you insane? I mean, are you completely nuts? Do you know what's happened to Willow?"

Giles shook his head, fearing the worst.

"She came in last night at midnight, crying about how you didn't love her and how she had ruined everything. She didn't sleep all night. When I left her this morning, she was practically catatonic. Forget what you did to her emotionally, do you think that's what she physically needs right now? After a serious trauma like that?"

Giles opened his mouth, but Buffy talked over him.

"You've fucked a lot of things up over the past six months, but I would have thought even you knew better than to treat the woman who's carrying your kid like that. You don't treat _anyone_ you love like that."

"Of course I love her, Buffy. But I don't know if I…"

"Of course, you're _in_ love with her! Don't be an idiot. You're smarter than that. At least I thought you were."

"Buffy, you can't possibly know that."

"Oh, all the concern about her safety? What was that, just some fatherly gesture? Her sleeping in your bed for the last two months, that was friendship? You killed Ethan, Giles. You killed him because he almost killed her!"

"I would have done that for any one of you."

"Bullshit."

Her tone softened almost imperceptibly, "You've loved her since England. Probably even before. God knows how long she's loved you. I've seen how you've changed towards her. How you look at her."

"How is that exactly?"

"Like she's something precious. Like she's perfect and you can't stand the thought of anything changing her, damaging her. Not even you if that something is you. Well, head's up, Giles! Willow might be special, but she's not perfect. She's not going to be ruined by you. She's one of the strongest people I've ever met and considering the company I keep, that's saying something."

"Buffy… there is too much at risk."

"Giles, she loves you. And I don't know if you've noticed, but when Willow loves someone, she doesn't give up on them easily. Even if you're convinced, for God knows what reason, that this is a mistake, don't you think she's earned the right to make it?"

He swallowed.

"You fix this, Giles. Because you're right. There is too much at risk. And the man I know and respect wouldn't screw that up just because he was afraid."

She slammed the door behind her.

* * *

Willow didn't know how much time had passed since she'd come downstairs to sit on the couch. She knew it must have been afternoon because the sunlight was warming her shoulders. She wondered if she sat here long enough if she could melt into the couch and disappear.

Like Ethan.

She let out a long breath.

Someone was calling her name. She blinked. Buffy was standing in front of her with her hands on her hips.

"Willow?"

"Huh?"

"I'm making spaghetti, do you want some?"

She shook her head.

"You've gotta eat, Will."

"I will later."

Buffy sighed and walked out of the room. Willow heard a voice at the door. The conversation faded in and out, but she paid it no attention. Her eyes started to close. Maybe she could get some sleep…

"Willow," Buffy said from the door. "Giles is here."

Her face burned.

"I can't…"

"I really think you should talk to him," Buffy said.

She swallowed and nodded slightly.

She heard Giles's shuffling gait and she stared at the carpet intently. There was a sick twisting inside of her and she knew that if she looked at him, she would lose any composure she still had.

"Willow." Giles sat in the chair across from her. "Willow, are you alright?"

She didn't answer.

"I was wrong to leave you last night, I should have—

"I'm sorry," she cut in. "I can't do this right now. And, you shouldn't say anything you don't mean just to make me feel better. You feel the way you feel and…" her voice broke.

"And if that's the case, you were right to push me away."

"But I don't. I wasn't…" he took a breath. "I-I love you. So very much."

She looked up at him, but couldn't meet his eyes. Her hands gripped each other so tightly that her nails cut into the tops of her hands.

"The night when Spike came over and you didn't spend the night… I don't think I slept for more than five minutes. I- I missed you. And when Ethan took you… I don't think I've ever felt that before."

"Felt what?" She managed to ask.

"Desperate."

He crossed the carpet and sat next to her. He took one of her hands in his and looked at it contemplatively.

"You have to understand something, Willow. I truly believe that I am not good for you. I am so much more… damaged than you are. In spite of everything that's happened between us, you are still so young. You have a chance to be happy. With someone your own age. I want you to be happy, Willow."

"Me too."

"And with things the way they are, with the baby coming in a few months… I don't think we can make a mistake."

"I have made mistakes in my life, Giles," Willow said quietly, meeting his eyes for the first time. "Every time I did, there was a feeling in my gut that told me I was wrong. This isn't one of those times. You make me happy. Most of the time, at least."

A hint of a smile passed his lips.

"You trust me, right?"

"I do."

"Then trust me now. Please."

He laced his fingers through hers and met her eyes.

"Okay."

She shuddered as he gently brushed the hair back from her face. His lips grazed the corner of her closed eye and continued slowly and deliberately down her jaw line.

She squeezed his hand hard, believing her heart would beat out of her chest.

His lips hesitated millimeters from hers and she closed the distance between them. Willow pressed her mouth to his lower lip and ran her tongue gently along the length of it. She closed her eyes as she felt him sigh with pleasure.

She pulled him closer to her and kissed the hollow where his jaw met his ear.

"I love you," she whispered.

She felt the warmth of his breath on her neck as he pressed his lips against her.

"I love you too. Let's go home, Willow.

* * *

Willow wondered if he could feel her heart jumping as he kissed the swell of her breast above her neckline. He must have. She didn't think it had ever beat so fast.

He looked up at her curiously.

"Are you alright?"

His hand hovered above her heart.

"More than alright, I think."

He adjusted his position and laid down beside her, his head nearly touching hers.

"It might not be the best idea for us to…"

"Make love," she said.

"Yes," he agreed. "Right now. I mean after…"

"I know," she sighed. "But that doesn't mean I don't want you close to me."

"I'm not going anywhere, Will."

Willow giggled. "You called me 'Will.' You never call me that."

He raised his eyebrows. "It won't happen again."

"No, it's fine. It's just—

She was interrupted by the buzzing of his cell phone.

"Ignore it," he said.

She gave him a smirk and rolled over to the nightstand.

"It's a 44 country code, Giles."

He sighed heavily, "England. Bugger."

He flipped open the phone.

"Hello… yes, this is he…"

Willow looked up at him mischievously as she took his hand and kissed each one of his fingertips. The corner of his mouth twitched as he fought a smile.

"What?"

Willow stopped abruptly.

"When? Do they know… ah… I see… Well, who's left? That's it? Yes… of course. I'll- I'll make the arrangements. Thank you."

Giles closed the phone and stared ahead blankly.

"What?" Willow asked.

"It's Ethan…"

"What about Ethan?"

"Apparently, the four days he was on the lam were well-spent."

"What do you mean?"

"He made it to England, where he apparently… He set a bomb in Council headquarters."

"Oh my God."

"They're all dead. Everyone who was stationed in England. The whole Council."

"God, Giles." She wrapped an arm around him.

"I've got to go to England," he said. "I have to… there are arrangements to make. They're calling all the Watchers in the field back."

"Who's left?"

"Just me and a handful of others, mostly subordinates. No more than five."

"How long will you be gone?"

He glanced over at her and blinked.

"I don't- I really don't know."

"You're going to have to stay, aren't you?" She understood.

"I don't… there's… the whole Council has to be reorganized. The headquarters were in London. There's no one left."

"We're coming with you," she said.

"What?" He was startled out of his musings. "When you say 'we' you mean…"

He looked down at her stomach.

"I mean me, the baby, Buffy, Xander and Anya, if she wants."

"You want to move the Scooby gang to England?"

"I want to be with you," she emphasized.

"Willow, I appreciate it. I do. And of course I want you with me. But you can't speak for the others."

"I know that. But think about it. If you and I leave, that's half the gang right there. And think about the Council, Giles. You need a new one. If we come, you have one. We've been doing the job of the Council for years: researching, fighting bad guys, helping the Slayer. And not to speak ill of the dead, but I think we've done a better job than they have."

"You have," he said, bringing her hand to his lips. "This is a lot to take in at once. And the timing…"

"Sucks," Willow stated. "I know. That's why we need the others with us."

Giles let out a long breath.

"I'll rally the troops."

* * *

"So, like, England? As in England-England?" Xander asked. "Bangers-and-mash, football-not-soccer, pasty-white, funny-accents England?"

"Oh, you've heard of it," Willow said.

"And this is like, now. And permanently."

"Yes," Giles nodded.

"Well, I don't know. What do you think, Buffy?"

"It's kinda cloudy in London, isn't it?" Buffy asked. "Like you know, dark, most of the year."

Giles opened his mouth, but Willow talked over him.

"Well, you'd be jet-setting for a lot of the time, Buff. Cleaning up this whole Turok-han mess. And I'm sure Giles could send you somewhere sunny."

"But what about here? Sunnydale? What about the Hellmouth?"

"Well—

Willow cut him off again.

"People survived on the Hellmouth before you came, Buffy. They'll survive after. We'll fly you back if there's a Big Bad."

"So, like, does this mean we'll all be in charge of Buffy now?" Xander asked, grinning.

"No!" Buffy and Giles said together.

"I think Buffy has long-since earned the right to look after herself, "Giles continued.

Buffy looked at her hands, "Um, speaking of 'Big Bad,' do you think… you think Spike could come too?"

Giles and Willow exchanged a glance.

"I don't know," Giles said. "Does he still carry a grudge against Willow for performing that spell?"

Buffy's eyes didn't move from her hands.

"Um… about that. There uh… that spell might have had an expiration date. Because… uh… No, Spike's not mad at Willow anymore."

"Huh," Willow stated.

"Yup," Buffy agreed.

"Well, then, yes," Giles said. "I'm sure that we could find a way for Spike to join us."

"Giles is going to go ahead over," Willow explained. "Find an apartment, get some stuff organized. And then I'm going to follow in a couple of weeks. I'm not really supposed to fly right away."

"Wait, just 'an' apartment?" Xander asked.

"Well, 'flat' really," Giles corrected. "Don't worry, Xander, if you choose to come, you don't have to live with us."

A look of realization crossed Xander's face and Anya nudged him.

"I told you," she whispered audibly. "And I can come too? Even though I'm not sleeping with Xander?"

"Yes, Anya," Willow tried not to sound exasperated. "We wouldn't have asked you over, otherwise."

Anya beamed. "I'm moving to England! I haven't been there since 1666 when that man I cursed started that bakery fire when I turned him into a Pyro Demon."

"Well, it's improved vastly since then, I'm sure," Giles said. "Wait, 1666, do you mean—

"What do you think, Xander?" Anya asked abruptly.

"I think it's a great idea. I'm gonna be a Watcher! I'm gonna be a Giles! Does this mean I have to wear a tweed vest?"

Giles glared at him.

"Buffy? Still waiting on your go-ahead," Willow said.

"Of course I'm coming," Buffy said. "There's nothing left for me if you guys go. And I'm going to be an aunt soon. How can I do the new-aunt thing if I'm in another country?"

"Scoobys take the UK," Xander said. "We should make a movie."

The small living room was soon filled with excited chatter and plan-making. Giles leaned back against the couch, rubbing Willow's back absently, wearing a look of distant contentment.

* * *

He knew he had thought this before, but this time, Giles honestly believed that his knuckles were going to crack from the pressure of Willow's grip. He bit his lip and said nothing, though. Even he knew that there were some times when certain commentary wasn't appropriate.

Willow panted heavily.

"God, this sucks." She fell back against the bed.

"You know, you could lie down," he suggested.

"I _told _you…"

"I know, I know. Standing up is supposed to expedite labor."

He didn't add that it didn't seem to be working. The muscles in his jaw jumped as he gritted his teeth. She was exhausted. And despite the nine month bump in her middle, she was still on the thin side.

A knock came at the door and Xander poked his head in.

"Hey guys, how's it going?"

Willow glared at him and Giles sighed.

"Uh-huh," he said. "Well, Willow, would you mind if I take over for G-man for a second?"

"Sure," Willow said, wearily, loosening her death-grip on his hand.

"I'll be right outside if you need me." He kissed her sweaty forehead.

"Get some coffee, Giles," Xander muttered to him at the door. "You look like you're going to fall over."

He rubbed his forehead. "Just talk to her, please. Get her to take the damn drugs."

"I'll do my best," Xander promised.

Willow concentrated on breathing steadily through her scowl as she counted down the seconds until her next contraction.

"So, red-haired girl," Xander started. "Going on eighteen hours now, huh?"

"Really, I hadn't noticed," she snapped. "Time flies so quickly when you're in excruciating pain."

"You know, you could do something about that."

"I'm not taking an epidural!"

"Why, you think you're going to miss something?" Xander reasoned. "How close are your contractions? They get closer by ten seconds every time?"

"Something like that," Willow hissed.

"So, you'll have the baby…"

"Sometime in the year 2020," Willow said. "What's your point?"

"You've got another six hours at least, Will," Xander reasoned. "And you've been up for nearly thirty hours."

"Too many numbers," Willow groaned.

"Giles is worried about you. I'm worried about you. You need to get some sleep so you will have the energy you need."

Willow sagged against the bed and cried wearily. She felt Xander's arms around her and fell against his chest.

"Will you please do this for me?" He asked her.

Willow nodded.

"Okay." He kissed her head. "You want me to get Giles?"

She nodded again.

"Okay."

* * *

"Willow, you need to wake up now."

She groaned and turned her head back to the pillow. She had just gotten to sleep. She knew she had to get up, but couldn't they just give her five more minutes? The baby could wait five more minutes.

"Willow, it's time for you to get up."

She blinked under the harsh glare of artificial lighting reflecting off of sterile surfaces.

Giles's face was inches from hers.

"I want to sleep," she told him.

"You can sleep after," he said. "You have to push now."

"Right now?"

"Pretty much," he nodded.

"Okay, Willow, we need you to start now," a voice came from the end of the bed.

When had they wheeled her into the delivery room? God, those drugs were good.

Thirty minutes later, she was soaked with sweat, exhausted and no closer to having delivered than when she was first wheeled in.

"Ms. Rosenburg?" The doctor said. "You can relax. We're going to take a break, okay?"

Willow collapsed against the pillows and cried jaggedly.

"I can't do this," she sobbed.

She felt his fingers brush her sodden hair away from her face.

"Yes you can," he said.

"I can't breathe, Giles," she said. "I feel like I'm drowning. I can't catch my breath."

He put his forehead against hers.

"Shhhh, yes you can," he murmured. "Just slow down. Just relax."

Her breath hitched a few times before it evened out.

He sat up and looked at her.

"You see? You're okay."

She shook her head.

"I'm so scared."

"Well, I'm not." He brought his mouth close to her ear. "Because I know you can do anything. And this is nothing compared to what you've faced before. You're going to do fine."

She swallowed and nodded.

"Okay, okay. Let's get this over with."

When her daughter was born, all Willow could hear was the sound of her own breath and the pounding pulse of blood thundering through her ears.

"Is she okay?" She asked.

She couldn't hear her cry.

The doctor nodded and told her something, but she couldn't hear him. She wouldn't believe him anyway. Not until she held her.

Giles handed her her baby, all pink and crying, eyes unfocused and scared.

And everything was silent again.

"She's perfect," she heard him say.

And she knew he was right.

* * *

Willow finally slept three hours later.

Giles caught snatches of Anya and Xander's whispered conversation from across the recovery room.

"… want one."

"… not even together anymore!"

"Yeah, but Xander… so pink and tiny and perfect! …one just like it."

Buffy rolled her eyes and turned to her Watcher.

"Can I hold her?"

Giles looked from his daughter to his Slayer.

"Okay, but just…"

He handed her over to Buffy carefully.

"Just, support her head."

"I got it, Giles," Buffy smiled at him.

"Hey, little Kara," she cooed. "What's her middle name again? Ashtra?"

"Asherah," Giles responded.

"Gaelic goddess of hunting and sex?" Buffy guessed.

"Close, Ugeritic fertility goddess."

"Ah, Willow," Buffy chuckled.

"I had to give her that one," Giles defended. "She did give her my last name."

"I think she would have done that anyway," Buffy said, not looking up from her new niece. "She told me what you did in there."

"What?"

"How you said you weren't afraid. That she could do anything," Buffy said. "I think it really meant a lot to her."

"She believed me?" Giles asked. "I've never been more terrified in my life!"

Buffy giggled.

"Well, you must have been pretty convincing."

They looked over at Willow.

"You know, if she wasn't in love with you before, she's smitten now," Buffy said. "You think you can handle it?"

Giles reached out for Kara and Buffy reluctantly handed her back to him.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I really want to."

* * *

**Thanks for reading, everyone! I have appreciate your comments very much! **

**Just a little epilogue before the end...**


	11. Epilogue

The English summer sun played on Willow's eyelids and she stretched herself awake with a contented groan. It was the first night since Kara was born that she had actually slept a solid eight hours. Giles told her to put in earplugs and let him look after their daughter for the night. After two seconds of feeble protesting, she had taken him up on his offer.

She padded down the steps into the living room of their London flat and had to put her hand to her mouth to muffle the giggle that bubbled up inside her.

Giles had fallen asleep in the recliner. His head was tilted back and his mouth was wide open. Kara lay in his arms buried against his chest.

As she approached, she saw that the one-month old wasn't asleep. She peeked out of the flannel of Giles's robe, surveying her mother curiously.

"Good morning, Kara," Willow whispered.

She picked her up gently, trying not to disturb Giles as she sat on the couch opposite.

Giles closed his mouth with a jolt, the momentary panic he felt when he noticed his daughter was missing was quickly quelled when he saw her in Willow's arms on the sofa.

"Good morning," she mouthed.

He smiled back at her.

"Sleep well?"

She nodded, smiling.

"Thank you." She nodded down to the baby at her breast.

"Mmm-hmm."

He took in the sight of the two of them sleepily. He had seen a lot of beautiful and amazing things in his life as a Watcher, but he didn't think anything was more perfect than this: his best friend and lover and his daughter, blinking in the English morning sun.

How do you tell someone that they are the face of your salvation? That without them, you would still be treading in the mire of guilt you had created for yourself? How do you fully convey that sentiment?

"What is it?"She asked.

He shook his head and smirked self-deprecatingly.

"I just… I love you."

Willow smiled like it was the first time she had heard it.

"I know," she said.

And she did.

* * *

**The End! **

**Thank you all for reading. I have enjoyed reading your comments!**


End file.
